The Program
by The Frisky Firelily
Summary: Something woke up in Jayne that night at the Maidenhead, something happened during that fight that triggered something darker and more deadly than any of them could ever realize. Post-BDM with 2 important changes.
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **A story written for **jewelshinely**, who presented the ideas and allowed me to play with them. Hope you enjoy it babe! Set Post-BDM but this time I need the crew whole.

* * *

**2514**

_**WAIVER**_

I, **Gabriel Tam****,** authorise the initiation and training of my daughter, _**River Tam**_**, **by The Academy. I authorise any and all classes into which she may be placed, including but not limited to ballet, combat, weaponry, quantum physics and mathematics.

This waiver communicates the transfer of all medical proxy decisions regarding: _**River Tam**_**.** By signing this waiver you are authorizing the Alliance Parliament and its affiliates with all rights to any medical treatment deemed 'required' for the candidate's successful integration into the program.

These treatments may include but are not limited to prescription of any and all medication, behavioural modification and temperament alteration, educational enhancements, neural examination and surgery, and any other treatments deemed necessary.

You additionally waive any and all rights for legal action in regards to the candidate, regardless of the end results of these treatments. These procedures, like all medical procedures, contain some measure of risk. This institution will not be held responsible for any possible side-effects, ramifications, or negative results. They will further not be held responsible for any adverse reactions to this treatment, up to and including death.

Signed: _**Gabriel Tam**_

January 1st, 2514

_**THE PROGRAM**_

I, _**Gabriel Tam**__**, **_give permission for my daughter to be entered into the companion division of The Academy, known as The Program. I give permission for her to be paired with an appropriate partner for ongoing resilience and genetics training.

Gabriel scratched his chin. "This form is different from the ones Dr Matthias sent out."

The man nodded. "Naturally; we are an elite school, Mr Tam, and part of that is our ongoing commitment to observation and education of our candidates. It would be inappropriate for divisions to reveal information to one another that is not directly related to the health of candidates. In order for the highest levels of scientific evaluation to occur we do not share all our information."

He smiled at Gabriel. "We do, of course, ensure that any and all medical assistance provided is appropriately prescribed based on other scientist's work."

Gabriel nodded. "So, The Program – what is it?"

The doctor nodded. "Ensuring that your daughter's talents and abilities are not confined solely to her lifetime. Cultivating her unique skills and genetics for the next generation. Candidates entered into The Program are matched with Academy candidates based on compatibility."

Gabriel nodded. "So, it's like a mentoring program?"

The man tilted his head. "Something like that, yes."

Gabriel thought about his too smart, too talented, too much trouble daughter sitting in the next room. Her latest escapade had almost cost Simon his place in medicad; honestly, stealing him away for a day at the carnival? And then saying those horrible things about Peter Crenshaw at the party…to accuse him of…in public no less!

At fourteen it was far too easy to forget that the mind of a child was correcting his work, dancing through his home in too tight shorts, catching his eye and clouding his mind. Vile, inappropriate little creature, causing her father's eyes to wander so. The sooner she was gone the better.

There was too much lurking behind his daughter's brown eyes, too much seen that she shouldn't be seeing. She was such an impossible, difficult child. Simon adored her for god knows what reason, but the reality was that neither Gabriel nor Reagan could feel any affection for a child so advanced, so superior. She was trouble, and if the Alliance wanted her as their trouble then so be it.

Besides, it would be wonderful to have the house to themselves for a while. And Gabriel knew, though he would never admit it out loud, that if one of those medical procedures went horribly wrong…well, easier to mourn a child than deal with the reality of their…uniqueness.

He scoffed. Uniqueness…more like childish lies and falsehoods. Precocious little thing that she was. Perhaps some time in an establishment such as this would straighten her out, turn her into something useful.

He grabbed the pen and scrawled his signature across the small slip of paper, a sigh of relief echoing through his throat. He glanced out to the hallway where River sat quietly, staring at a wall while her fingers went a mile a minute over a Rubik's cube. Gabriel's lip curled and he turned back to the doctor, passing over the papers.

"Here, we'll drop her off in the morning."

The man smiled politely. "Thank you, Mr Tam. You've done the right thing."


	2. Chapter 2

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **So, just a warning folks, this is probably going to wind up in some dark places (well, as dark as I'm capable of, at least).

* * *

Mal tossed the ball high, grinning with relief when Simon caught it for once. The doctor ducked under Jayne's arm and whipped it over to Wash, who swung it into the hoop. Zoe and Inara, sitting at the top of the catwalk watching, broke into applause.

Kaylee sighed. "Ain't fair! You got three boys on your team!"

Wash laughed. "Don't worry Kaylee, Jayne's worth about two men."

Jayne grinned. "Thanks lil man."

"No problem pal – anyone your size sure counts for extra!"

"Hey!"

Kaylee laughed as the boys broke into a mock tussle, even Simon deigning to dive onto Jayne's back as the big man leapt on Mal and Wash. Laughter rang from the catwalks as Book joined the two women up there, handing over cups of tea and placing a small bowl of protein snaps between them.

Since the announcement of Zoe's pregnancy the ship had seemed a lighter place. Though Miranda had begun the process of forging bonds made of family steel rather than crewmate rope, the news that they would soon be having a new arrival certainly warmed the place. Mal had pitched a fit when they'd told him, but as he remembered Zoe's face seconds before Wash dived out of the way of the branch he had softened, even going so far as to congratulate the happy couple.

And then remind them he wasn't going to pay them more for spitting out a bouncing baby brat.

Zoe's answer to which had been swift and painful.

Six months after Miranda and their flying home had become a more insular, joyful space, the ramifications of survival through that hellish journey. No crew member saw their fellow shipmates in the same light. Simon and Kaylee's relationship seemed to have eased considerably with the addition of intimacy – Jayne joked that all the Doc needed to keep his foot outta his mouth was a warm body in his bed.

Which had earned him a whack over the back of the head from said warm body.

Inara had recently resigned from the Companions Guild amongst rumours that the newly formed government was reviewing accusations of mistreating women. She'd been happy to do so, now working for the Therapy Guild as a qualified Counsellor and Mediator, as well as acting as Serenity's liaison for all Core matters.

Mal wasn't ready to admit his relief that she'd left her previous profession, but the two could be found in the galley late at night, silently going about their business with quiet smiles on their faces. They may not have been ready to admit it out loud, but the first tentative steps of an ancient and intricate dance were there.

The Preacher, still grieving the massacre on Haven where he had only been saved by Simon's medical expertise, was healing slowly. The shelter and warmth a Serenity was gradually easing the soul wounds that the destruction had created, allowing him a place to recuperate at his own pace. He had happily taken over any and all cooking, and Mal had grinned when he'd offered Book the position of Serenity's private chef.

As had the crew, largely because it meant Simon wasn't allowed to make dinner anymore.

Even Jayne had been managing to keep a slightly more civil tongue, though just barely. The real changes were in his actions; on jobs he went above and beyond the requirements for keeping his crew safe, and he'd taken it upon himself to begin some basic weapons instruction for his less than able crewmates.

Mal knew the big man was never likely to admit it, but he didn't want to lose anyone.

So here they were, wrestling like overzealous teenagers while Kaylee gripped her sides with laughter. Suddenly a swish rang out as the ball was thrown through the hoop, putting a sudden stop to their antics. River caught the ball she'd thrown and grinned, cocking an eyebrow.

"Bad doggies, abandoning your posts."

She swished it through the air again, gaining another point.

Mal pushed Wash off him and stood up indignantly. "Hey, no fair! We was on a break!"

Jayne smirked. "Ain't no breaks Cap'n, that's two more fer us."

Simon turned to where the spectators were smiling. "Judgement please?"

Inara pretended to look speculative as Mal pleaded with his eyes. "Well…you were occupied. However no break was called, and therefore the points stand."

Wash, Simon and Mal all groaned as Kaylee and Jayne high fived. Mal glared up at Inara.

"Devil woman."

She laughed and blew him a kiss, softening his annoyed look considerably.

Kaylee congratulated River as Simon smiled. The release of Miranda's dark secret had been allowing her to slowly grow into herself, and whilst the reality of her condition was that she would always walk through multiple realities, her Reading was proving a valuable asset to the crew. Even Simon was now comfortable letting her go on jobs, and she'd been earning her cut of the pay as well as the rest of them. Having prior knowledge about who was going to double cross you and when was like a gift from heaven as far as Mal was concerned.

Besides, as a gun hand she was perfect; nobody suspected the slim girl to be the deadlier threat while Jayne was about.

Being treated as crew and family had a profound effect on her, the feeling of being loved and welcomed by people other than Simon obviously pleasing her no end. The only person who still treated her like less than family was Jayne. If Mal was honest he knew that Jayne wasn't actually being anything less than civil, but the bigger man would go out of his way to avoid her, leaving rooms, staying quiet and refraining from going near her whenever he could help it.

Still, all things in their time. Mal hoped one day the big man would begin to accept her, and he'd placed them on the same team for that very reason. Nonetheless the big man was hanging back from congratulating her on the points she'd gained them, and the girl had noticed. When on jobs they worked well but separately, each seeming to have silently decided to pick up where the other would slack. The picture of the giant merc and the slim girl was amusing enough that some people forgot what they were capable of.

And in those instances, when violence finally did ensue, they had the element of surprise.

The girl was flourishing no doubt. Her lean build would never allow her to look much older than she was, but the excuse that she was Mal's niece worked nicely. Since Inara had started instructing Simon that a girl of eighteen shouldn't be wearing oversized hand-me-downs her wardrobe had been getting better.

Of course, that didn't mean she didn't like dressing in those bulky things from time to time. Which Mal was actually relieved about, since seeing eyes wandering over her when they were in public tended to make him a mite cranky.

She seemed to avoid Jayne as much as he did her, and Mal had noticed her studying him, watching him as if waiting for an attack. During those rare moments she acknowledged the merc's existence there was something predatory about the way she observed his actions, as if she was anticipating something. Mal had even asked her once if he should be worried about Jayne, but River only shook her head.

"No, you don't need to worry about Jayne."

Mal had caught the minor inflection but said nothing of it. If the girl had something to tell him she'd do it in her own time.

"Right, we're tied then. Team changeover – River yer with me an' Simon, Wash you're with Jayne and Kaylee."

Kaylee tilted her head. "Why's we changin' teams?"

Mal rolled his eyes. "Cuz I'm the Cap'n an' that's what I say. This here is a team-buildin' exercise, I need y'all ta be able ta work this well no matter which crewmember yer playin' with."

Zoe stifled a grin. "That mean you won't be devolving into dog piles again Sir?"

Mal didn't look up. "That's quite enough from the peanut gallery Zo'."

Wash whooped as the game began anew, the sound of pounding feet filling the cargo bay as grunts, shouts and yells echoed. River's lightning speed and Jayne's size meant the others had to work damn hard for their points, though the two never seemed to cross paths. Jayne would lift Kaylee onto his shoulders and Wash had used Mal as a springboard for speckies* more than once. Even Simon and Kaylee would wrestle for the ball but Jayne didn't go anywhere near River.

Mal fought not to roll his eyes. He needed them to work for this, his gun hands couldn't be avoided one another forever. He smirked as he ducked under Jayne's arm and tossed River the ball, knowing the merc would have little choice but to tackle her to get it back.

He saw Jayne hesitate mid-tackle, and the move cost him ground, allowing River to trip him up and land the ball in the hoop. The merc winced as he landed hard against a crate, the wood splintering into his arm. As blood began to soak into his t-shirt Simon turned to assist him, and the game was as good as over.

Mal sighed. "Alright folks, that's enough fer today."

As the crew began to disperse Simon ordered Jayne to the infirmary. Only Inara remained sitting on the catwalk, looking down at where River stood, still holding the ball. The dress on her thin frame was slightly damp with perspiration, and her breathing was irregular. Inara knew she hadn't broken a sweat during the game, so she had no idea why the girl simply stood there looking winded.

And she wondered if it had anything to do with Jayne, who had looked petrified at the thought of getting within five feet of the small girl.

* * *

Jayne let Simon walk him into the infirmary. The crate had shattered and a thick spike of wood had made a new home in Jayne's arm. As the doctor sat him down and turned for his tools Jayne struggled to keep his head clear. Couldn't afford slip ups like that, especially not on jobs.

Simon turned, giving him a strange look as he moved to work on the arm. "Why didn't you tackle her?"

Jayne grunted. "Yer crazy sister took out a room full'a Reavers – I strike ya as a man with a death wish?"

Simon chuckled to himself as he careful removed the splinter, cauterizing the wound quickly while Jayne hissed. As he applied a bandage he noticed something strange. He looked at the big man on his table curiously. His skin was warm, far too warm, but there was little evidence of anything more than a light sweat.

"Jayne, do you have a fever?"

Jayne cocked a brow. "Been runnin' around that cargo bay fer nigh on an hour, wouldn't ya be sweatin'?"

Simon shook his head as he took Jayne's temperature. "You're not sweating much, that's the issue. Your temperature is through the roof…have you been feeling unwell lately?"

Jayne shook his head and shrugged. "S'all good Doc, I'm a big guy, make more heat."

Simon took out his stethoscope and placed it over Jayne's chest. "Jayne, you're heart is beating a mile a minute – are you afraid? Angry? Stressed?"

Jayne growled as he stood, pushing Simon away carefully. "Gettin' there. I feel fine Doc, I'll tell ya iffen I don't. Thanks fer the fix up."

"Wait, we need to check this out. You could have an infection!"

Jayne rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Doc the second I reckon I'm comin' down with somethin' you'll be the first ta know. Touchin' as yer concern may be I don't need it."

He glanced back at Simon, who turned to his log book with a curious expression on his face. Jayne's hand whipped out lightning fast, slipping the smoothers out of the draw and pocketing them. He strode quickly towards his bunk, grunting a greeting at Book and disappearing inside.

* * *

***A/N: **Hey kids, a speckie is a move in Aussie rules football. It means to jump onto the back of another player to execute a catch. It's short for spectacular mark.


	3. Chapter 3

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Shout out to **Mel **and **Whisperkey **for letting me bounce ideas off them!

* * *

One pale hand trailed over mocha skin, tracing patterns on the bump. Zoe laughed as her husband started walking a dinosaur over their unborn child's home, the warm, rich sound echoing through their bunk.

He grinned. "Yes, yes, _this_ is indeed a fertile land! We shall thrive here."

She batted at his hand. "Seems you've already done quite enough thrivin' mister, and this bump is the evidence."

She laughed again as he quirked a brow suggestively. "Could stand to do a little more thriving, just to make sure the first time sticks."

He smiled as he kissed her, one hand wrapping behind her head as the other rested gently on the warm skin that housed their sleeping baby.

* * *

Jayne made sure to lock his bunk and set a sleep warning. Kaylee had installed the technology a little while after Miranda, and nobody was stupid enough to believe it had nothing to do with her newfound bed mate and their desire for privacy. Still, Jayne was a fan of them, because unless Mal was ready to beat the crap out of him for being late people tended to respect them. He didn't need to be disturbed, not tonight. He stripped off the soiled t-shirt and turned to wash his face in the sink.

When he looked up into the mirror he saw a stranger. The physique was pretty much the same, tall and well-muscled, he was in the best shape of his life. Nothing had changed, not to anybody else, but the eyes.

They belonged to a stranger.

Those eyes were exhausted, haunted, filled with anger and tension. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, pulling out the smoothers he'd pinched from the infirmary drawer.

The doctor was going to start noticing soon; he'd have to find a better way of getting himself under control. It wasn't that he liked using them, far from it. The feeling a of heavy blanket laying over him was stifling, and the first few times he'd stumbled drunkenly around his bunk trying to fight off the effects before they finally took hold.

It was easier now.

Now his hands didn't tremble when he slid the needle under his skin, he didn't hesitate as he pushed down the plunger. He still hated it, still wanted nothing more than to throw the _gorram_ things straight into the wall and watch them shatter.

But he couldn't.

It had started after Miranda. At first he thought it was just a natural reaction to the kind of hell they'd gone through. The nightmares were normal, and even though they forced him to wake in a cold sweat he could still understand them. Or at least, he tried to.

Nightmares that should have contained Reavers seemed to blend into fragmented images of men in white coats making notations on clipboards. More than once he'd woken in the middle of the night, tearing at his arms to rip out imagined needles.

He glanced down at the track marks. Luckily the crew hadn't noticed anything strange yet, but it was only a matter of time.

The truth was he'd known something was wrong since the Maidenhead.

Since he'd entered that tussle and damned near had his sack torn off by the crazy girl things had started changing. It wasn't just the way those dark eyes locked with his as he threw men across the room to get to the whirling dervish she'd become. It wasn't just the elegant arc of her leg as she slammed a boot into one man's head, spinning out to elbow and backhanding another. It wasn't just the way dark hair flew as she spun and moved through the room like a violent ballet.

It was the smell.

When he'd grabbed her the scent of the air around her made him hesitate, made him pause. There was something wrong with that smell.

It coated his nostrils and throat like thick honey, layering over itself until all he could taste and experience was that rich scent. It clouded his mind and fogged his brain and set something in motion that terrified him. He couldn't place it, not if he tried. Fruit ripening on the vine, almost ready for the plucking, touching the air with the scent of anticipation. Fresh rain on new grass and icy winter and scorching summer all weaving through his nose and into his brain.

She'd managed to get the drop on him, and he was almost relieved he'd been knocked out.

And ever since the first time that gorram scent had hit his nose he'd felt…different.

At first he'd thought maybe it was just foreboding. He'd tried to ship her off in the shuttle, tried to get the threat off their boat, but she'd gotten the drop on him once more. When he'd finally come to he'd stared at her as the crew looked at the hidden planet on the cortex of the bridge. He hadn't even kicked up a fuss, not when he was feeling so…strange.

He wasn't surprised by Simon's findings; he knew he was running hotter than usual. Everything inside him that should feel numb or paralysed by the horrors of Miranda was humming with energy, crackling like lightening under his skin and through his veins. His workouts had become obsolete; he needed to push himself for hours to reach the point of exhaustion, his stamina apparently increased to new and frustrating heights.

It wasn't just that.

Last time they'd been planetside he'd spent more pay than he ever had on getting sexed. Went to three different cathouses and worked through whoever they had to offer, apologising to sated, exhausted whores when they couldn't get him over the edge. They would always smile and take the cashy money he was offering with a gleam in their eyes, but no man should spend that much cash on getting sexed.

Their scent and feel and taste would try to eradicate the memories of that smell from his mind to no avail, pale in comparison to the aroma that haunted him. Didn't matter what they looked like or how many they were – nothing worked, and there was only so much you could demand of a woman, even if she was getting paid for it.

After two hours they tended to give him politely exasperated looks.

He was eating like a woman pregnant with triplets, devouring food at such an alarming rate that Mal had threatened a pay cut just so they could keep feeding him. Now he snuck away when they were planetside and added to his private locker of food, anything to keep energising the body running far hotter than usual.

He reckoned that as strange as those things were he could probably have dealt with them if it wasn't for the mood swings. Jayne liked it when he had three moods: angry/fighting, happy/fighting, happy/sexing. That was it. He wanted to be excited about Zoe and Wash's good news, wanted to laugh as Mal put his foot in it with Inara, wanted to appreciate Simon's tentative gestures of friendship.

Instead he was discovering mind numbing rage and vicious desire for violence unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

And he knew where it was directed.

That smell, that scent of anticipation and _soon_, hinting the air of the ship and making his blood boil. He could always tell when she'd been in a room and how long ago it was by that scent. Whenever he was forced into close proximity with the girl that smell would tangle his thoughts and bring about a primal gut reaction that he'd never felt before.

He couldn't identify it…at least not out loud.

Three times he'd caught himself in the middle of the night halfway to her bunk, once with his hand reaching for the door. The electricity sizzling across his skin and the sense of expectancy were driving him somewhere and he didn't want to think about what would have happened if he'd opened that door. Skin and hair and lip all drenched in that ruttin' smell filling his mind and making him quake with lust.

That was when he'd started the smoothers.

He needed something, anything to keep him knocked out for the nights, to keep whatever this beast was at bay while the rest of the crew slept soundly. It didn't help his predicament that he knew she was watching him, leaving the hairs on the back of his neck standing as she stared with eyes far older than they should be.

He sighed as he slipped off the cap and slid the needle under his skin. The sense of being dragged underwater, of slipping way into nothingness, it all terrified him no end.

But it was worth it.

Because he didn't know what would happen if he didn't.

* * *

Kaylee grinned as she flopped next to River on the couch while Simon fixed some tea. "Whatcha readin'?"

River didn't look as she replied. "Book of animals from earth-that-was. Today the subject matter is _Panthera tigris altaica, _Siberian tiger."

Simon smiled from the kitchen. "She always loved the animal behaviour books; we found this in that marketplace on Stall."

Kaylee grinned as she looked at the picture. "Oh, so _ke ai_! Look at the mama with the two babies!" The mechanic frowned. "Where's the daddy tiger?"

River stared at the page as Simon replied. "After mating the female runs him off to protect her future young."

Kaylee sighed. "Oh, but why?"

River's voice was monotone. "Competing interests, independent beasts. Must have wide territories to avoid conflicts. Any other day they are sworn enemies but for a few days they are lovers. Afterwards she has young to place her concern with; his continuing presence is a threat to her territory, her source of prey, and her offspring."

Kaylee stared. "Well…that don't sound like much fun ta me."

River had that curious, farseeing look she got when something was trying to present itself and refusing to be clear about it. "Not fun, perhaps."

The eyes darkened and her voice gained a steel snap. "But necessary."

Simon felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. River had been going quiet lately, a disturbing fluctuation in her recovery. Since Mal had hired her on as gun hand, ostensibly to replace his currently incapacitated first mate, River had been doing well. She would Read the situations and advise the Captain as much as possible, normally with the rest of the crew standing by to aid in dissecting any particularly convoluted predictions. More than once she'd saved Mal credits as well as bullet wounds, allowing the crew some measure of reassurance during their dirtier jobs.

His brilliant, beautiful _mei mei_ was growing up, and with her eighteenth birthday fast approaching it was delightful to see glimpses of the woman she was becoming. In the past her Reading had seemed to come about at strange times, and now she seemed to have a much better grip on her perceptions. The cryptic nature of her warnings was not new, but when her eyes darkened like that Simon was reminded that there may be more to learn about the Academy and their schemes.

Kaylee and Simon stared as River returned to herself, smiling as her brother passed a cup of green tea and returning to her book.

Simon unconsciously tugged at his ear as he watched his sister. He'd been meaning to attempt to find more files from the now disbanded Academy. Although the newly forming governments had ordered the destruction of such facilities after the Miranda broad wave, he knew there was still some access to previous cortex files. He'd found a little information, mostly the behavioural modification files he'd already been aware of, but parts seemed to have been deliberately blacked out. Suggestions of future genetics preservation were made, and occasionally he saw reference to something called The Program, but these snippets contained nothing to indicate the nature of the deleted files.

He'd briefly discussed with Mal the possibility of seeking further information, and given the way Miranda had unfolded Mal agreed that knowing any other possible suprises would be a good plan. They'd been putting it off since she was doing so well, but as each day passed he saw continued glimpses into something unfolding under the surface. He needed to get to that information soon.

If only to reassure himself that the Academy was truly gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**TITLE: **The Project

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

**Internal Memo: **_From the desk of Hayden Chan _

_March 17__th__ 2485_

_The work proposed is solid and viable, especially given our successful experiments on primates. The neural stripping will allow for intense conditioning and has been shown to enhance intuitive abilities detected in chimps. These abilities, grounded in the concept of heightened sensitivity to external cues, seem to sometimes border on the predicative._

_However the proposed experiment requires genius level candidates, which is only possible for those subjects exposed to higher levels of learning. These subjects are best sourced from the Core planets, where educational facilities are extensive and well monitored. The issue arises that, should the experiments prove successful, there is little in the way of resilience or strength to be found in such subjects. Furthermore the neural stripping, although intensely valuable for establishing heightened intuitive abilities, can at times leave a candidate with less control of their emotions. _

_As a result it would be highly beneficial to have a second generation of successful candidates exposed to compatible resilient aggressor genes designed to assist in creating stronger, more powerful subjects. This would further allow for exposure to different strains of genetic antibodies and triggers, allowing for greater adaptability._

_As a result we propose a companion experiment to The Academy aimed at sourcing subjects with high levels of resilience and aggression to be exposed to the Ares chemical currently being designed. We believe this would be a valuable advancement in our techniques and the future of the Academy._

_Please find attached notes and proposal for The Program._

Simon's eyes skimmed down the page. The wave had been sent years ago when he first attempted to get River out of The Academy. He had only glanced at the other areas pertinent to her wellbeing, and since this had suggested a different area of the Alliance experimentation he hadn't given it much thought.

However River's strange behaviour of late, the kind of behaviour only an obsessive brother would take note of, was giving him reason to expand his studies.

There was no attachment to the thirty year old document, no indication of what exactly The Program entailed. He needed that information, needed to know what affect those further experiments might have had on his sister.

Largely because he had a sneaking suspicion that the Alliance still had a card up its sleeve, and he wanted to know what it was.

* * *

_The memories were crisp and fresh as if they'd happened only moments before. The boy laughed, pointing at his oversized frame, eyes sparkling with vicious amusement. Didn't go to school, too big, useless Rim trash, the taunts were always the same, stinging the air around him with the acidic scent of cruelty and truth. The red returned, clouding his vision with a haze of fury like nothing he'd ever felt before, large fists pounding away until all that was left was bloody pulp._

_His mother, crying loudly as he returned home, covered in sweat and grim, spending hours hunting in the forests just to clear the red from his vision. It would come back, it always came back. And he didn't know who he would hurt next._

_Not a memory, something else now. Thick scents clouding the air with something dark and deadly, turning the girl before him into a succubi, haunting his every sense. She looked like desire personified, her voice taunting and lyrical in his ears. His tongue darted out to taste the air, thick with arousal and need. That smell was back, the one that sent him down the dark road, and he reached forward to feel silken skin beneath his fingertips before the scene changed._

_He was small. The needles were back. Piercing into his arms as men in white coats discussed things and took notes on clipboards. He didn't understand, why were they hurting him? Whatever was passing through those metal injections was painful; setting his skin on fire and making his vision swim red. He howled into the room, knowing that it didn't matter how loud he was._

_Nobody was listening._

Jayne shot upright in bed, the smoothers weaving his dreams and reality too tightly together, and he clawed at his arms to strip the needles out. It took him moments before his mind finally returned to full consciousness, though not before he'd torn ragged holes in the crook of each elbow, agitating fresh track marks and leaving obvious gouges.

His breathing was ragged as he flung his legs over the side of the bed, trying to stop the cold sweat that was still pouring from him, desperate to slow his heart rate. He knew it was pointless, knew the feeling of anxious anticipation wasn't going anywhere. He glanced up at the mirror, noting his eyes rimmed with red, his chest heaving as his frozen lungs struggled to draw in oxygen.

He shook himself, glancing down at the empty hypodermics that had held the smoothers. He was going to need another way to deal with this.

If he didn't sleep properly soon he wasn't going to last much longer.

* * *

Mal watched the stars float past as Wash guided them through the Black. Zoe moved to his side, one hand resting on her stomach as she smiled at her husband's progress. Book entered just as quietly, clutching a cup of hot tea in one hand.

His voice was low, as if hesitant to disturb the sense of peace on the bridge. "And why are we all up so early?"

Mal sighed. "Couldn't sleep; we need a job Shepherd."

Book raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that we performed one just two days ago."

Mal shook his head as Zoe moved to stand behind Wash, the pilot unconsciously reaching up one hand to rest over his child's home. "Not the kind I want. Need somethin' ta keep us in the air fer a while, keep us outta harms way. Doc says Zoe here's like ta pop soon, an' I wanna know we're somewhere safe when that happens."

Zoe was silent but it was easy to read the tightness around Wash's eyes. The pilot was relieved Mal considered this so important; it was easier than demanding they find somewhere safe for his child to be born.

They'd been working ever since Miranda, keeping themselves distracted as it were. Despite their rigorous schedule no job had allowed them to feel secure for a while, and with the nearing arrival of the littlest Washburne security was becoming a major concern.

Book stared out to the Black thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, it seems there is one contact we have yet to consult with."

Zoe nodded. "Shepherd's right Sir, we still haven't called on Badger since the broad wave."

Mal ran a tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. "Well Zo', that could have somethin' ta do with the fact Persephone's still a port for those Alliance _hun dans_ still holdin' onto the dream."

"Could be fine iffen we ditch the extra cargo."

Mal turned as Jayne entered the bridge, biting into a protein bar with a second and third stashed in his pockets. He narrowed his eyes at the merc, noting the exhaustion under the man's eyes. The big man was looking slightly leaner than usual, not an inch of body fat visible on the large frame. And his eyes, tired and red rimmed, seem to hold something strange. He was shifting on his feet as if staying still would let something catch up with him.

Mal hated when his merc looked shifty; it never failed to spell trouble.

"Now I thought you got over yer little spat with the Tams after the girl done saved all our hindquarters."

Jayne snorted. "Yeah, from a mess she dragged us inta."

Book tilted his head. "You've been getting along well with Simon lately, didn't I see you two playing cards the other day?"

Jayne shrugged. "Doc ain't the problem but him an' the girl come as a package deal."

Mal shook his head. "I don't know what that girl has ta do fer ya ta leave her alone, she's saved yer ass more times than I can count, and still ya act like she's poisonous."

Jayne stared at the stars for a few seconds before shaking his head and lowering it. "I dunno what it is, Cap'n."

He looked up and met Mal's eyes. "She just bothers me, s'all."

Zoe's head whipped up as Mal's eyes followed Jayne out of the bridge before turning to look at his first mate. She placed one hand on the leather thong tied around her neck, not looking away from Mal's eyes as a memory whipped between them.

Wash looked at them curiously. "What, what's going on?"

Book watched as Mal's eyes flicked to the pilot and back to his first mate. "Nuthin' Wash, just somethin' I heard said a long time ago."


	5. Chapter 5

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **And we're back…a million years since an update, my sincerest apologies. I'm so sorry for the long hiatus, I hope I haven't lost you all.

* * *

Lee Griggs winced as the sounds from the cages echoed through the room. As much as he was relieved their work had continued despite the…distasteful events of the last few months, it still rankled to be stuck in this underground lab. Working with the candidates was one thing; most of their minds were so brutalized they were brilliantly conditioned to obey.

The Breeders, on the other hand…

Griggs shuddered. Truthfully they were lucky their benefactors had provided the area, but being stuck down here with the animals was at times disconcerting. Nonetheless this was the work to which he had committed himself, and as easy as it was to deal with the nearly catatonic candidates, these animals also had their uses.

Or so he was told.

Honestly he doubted it. None of the experiments had produced more than violence and a big clean up, and the beasts were too driven to be used for anything else. Still, this is what he got paid to do.

Besides, it's not like he could leave if he wanted to. He resisted the urge to scratch at the monitor on his ankle.

He looked up to where Dr Chan was doing his daily notations. Chan was tall and lean to the point of looking gaunt, his bald head seeming to highlight the hollowness of his cheek bones in the blue lights of the lab. Griggs moved to his side, pleased that he finally had some good news to provide.

"Hayden, there has been news of Serenity."

Chan's head snapped up quickly and he nodded. "Go on."

Griggs gestured to the clear printout in front of him. "Says here they made a wave to one Badger requesting a meeting later in the week. He's a petty criminal, little more than a middleman, but the location of his offices is surprisingly well guarded."

Chan smiled to himself. "Yes, yes we've got him on file. When are they expected?"

Griggs winced as a snarl rattled a nearby cage. "Thursday, sometime in the morning."

Chan nodded, bending down in front of one of the cages. Bloodshot eyes glared back at him as the occupant snarled. Tangled hair hung unkempt around the dirty face, and although the heavily muscled body was strung tight with tension the eyes still held a measure of intelligence. It's code was tattooed on one arm, advertising its type and status.

Griggs watched as the occupant moved to a standing position, testing the air with his nose and tongue, body occasionally throwing out a spasm as the increased adrenaline begged for movement of some kind. Chan didn't flinch back as the Breeder threw himself at the reinforced glass that caged it, ignoring the pain as his skin bruised with the force of his blows. Despite the adrenaline inflicted wounds the Breeder's thin hospital pants revealed its state of arousal, and Griggs made a moue of disgust.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, sir. We still don't know where the girl is…what good is knowing the planet if we can't find her? How do we locate her?"

Chan didn't look away as the Breeder began to hurl itself around the cell, leaping and jumping, desperate for movement to burn off the incredible reserves of excess aggression and energy.

He smiled. "We don't. We don't do a damn thing."

He turned to Griggs, his eyes reminding the other man of the flat blankness of ink, and when Chan smirked he felt a shiver run up his spine.

"We let him to it."

* * *

Jayne scratched his head. He didn't want to do this. He really didn't want to do this. This was most definitely not how he liked to run things. But he was running out of options. The smoothers were wearing off faster every time, and he didn't have the brains to keep doing it without getting caught.

So he needed help.

He sighed as he knocked on the door, wanting to bolt when a few seconds passed, relieved to be given an out.

Unfortunately the door slid smoothly open, and the occupant looked at him curiously.

Inara's hair was tousled and she was without any makeup, a rarity that made Jayne feel even more awkward for bothering her. Still, she seemed to decide quickly that whatever was written on his face didn't warrant a firm reprisal for such an early wake up call, and she silently gestured him inside.

He looked around the sumptuously decorated shuttle, trying to find somewhere to sit that didn't look expensive. There was a reason he hated being in here; he always knew that every second passing brought him a little bit closer to breaking something. Inara pointed to a chair as she set a pot on the portable hot plate she'd had installed recently. She pulled her robe tightly around her body, trying to ignore the coldness of the sleeping ship, and sat down across from him as the water heated.

Jayne would normally be fidgeting in the silk covered chair, but something was forcing him to hold his body completely still. Inara was briefly taken aback by the stillness, realizing that she rarely thought of him as more than their hired gun. This self-control was so tightly wound it must have taken years to develop and she had the uncomfortable realisation that she was looking at Jayne the tracker, falling back into old habits to protect himself.

She kept her voice low and careful. "Jayne, what is wrong?"

He kept his eyes downcast, leaning his elbows against his knees and putting his face in his hands. Despite his pose the tight control never left his muscles, as if he was barely permitting the movement. His voice came out muffled, more exhausted than she'd ever heard him sound.

"Can't…somethin's wrong 'Nara."

When he looked up she saw his thousand yard stare, and wondered what battle he was fighting so very privately.

"Why do you think something is wrong?"

He chuckled darkly, and Inara wondered what nightmares were crossing through his eyes.

His voice was hollow, empty. "Since Miranda…I can't…it's like there's somethin' changing. Everytime I smell it I'm…'Nara I can't sleep. She's…I jus' can't sleep."

Inara watched him stare into space for a moment, trying to read whatever she could from his body language. He was wearing his heavy jacket, and she knew he never did that on ship, preferring t-shirts. Two explanations – either he was cold or he was hiding something. She didn't see him shiver, he didn't seem to be protecting himself from the temperature, in fact he looked a little warm.

Hiding something then.

He said he couldn't sleep. The eyes seemed to support that, as did the leaner frame. He'd been eating just fine, in fact more than he'd ever eaten, so she knew it was unlikely to be a virus. Simon would have picked up on that quickly, and the big man had been working out, so his usual patterns weren't interrupted.

She paused. That wasn't entirely true.

He'd been working out far more than usual; in fact she'd heard him doing it late at night. And every time they were on planet he'd gone straight to the nearest brothel and not returned until right before take-off. Rather than looking satisfied and pleased he'd looked frustrated and tense every time.

She let her mind drift slowly. Smells…

He was always more sensitive to the environment than the rest of them. Touching, smelling, tasting, he was always looking for a tactile confirmation of his surroundings, wanting clear associations, cataloguing for later.

She…

"Jayne, does someone on the boat smell…strange?"

His head snapped up and for a second something violent danced behind his eyes before it was immediately squashed, so fast she almost doubted she'd even seen it. He nodded once, slowly, not offering up any more information.

She pursed her lips. "Well, pregnant women often give off different pheromones than normal. If you are sensitive to such things maybe you're subconsciously detecting them?"

Jayne's ears perked for a second and a thoughtful look crossed his face, his brow furrowing as if trying to chase a memory of some kind. Inara watched him, wary as the tension gave way to a cold calm, as if he'd shut something down very quickly.

He stood. "Yer prob'ly right 'Nara, jus' noticin' changes with Zo'. Thanks."

Inara stood with him, aware that she was missing something, that he was hiding something. "Jayne," he tensed when she put a hand on his arm, eyes flicking to it briefly before back up to her face. His skin was far warmer than she'd expected, and when she met his eyes she froze. It suddenly occurred to her that Jayne rarely turned the full force of his eyes onto people, and when he did the feeling was…unsettling.

"I hope you know that if you want to talk, if you want to discuss things without judgement, I'm here for you." She smiled reassuringly. "Unlike my previous occupation I now have no issue servicing crew; being a Mediator is all about listening. Your emotional health is just as important as your physical condition."

Jayne grinned wolfishly, looking like his usual roguish self.

"Don' be stupid 'Nara, I ain't go no 'motions."

And with that he strode out, leaving behind a very confused, very worried ex-Companion.

* * *

Mal called people to the bridge early in the morning, looking out at his crew. "Right, we've contacted Badger. He reckons he might have a job fer us, an' we're gonna need ta be on the alert. No mistakes; this is Persephone, an' the sooner we get this job an' leave that rock the better, _dong ma_?"

Around him his crew nodded silently, tense and concerned, all aware of what was at stake. Mal was relieved to have an opportunity to lighten the mood.

"Now, that don't mean we can't have a lil fun. Badger has a private shed, somewhere ta leave the ship, and that should give us at least a few hours o' down time. An' since someone here is due fer a birthday, I think we might need to celebrate."

He hooked an arm around River as he spoke, enjoy the shy, beaming smile she shot him. "Seems our 'Tross is turnin' 18, an' if that don't warrant a celebration then I don't know what does."

Wash grinned as he nodded. "Gonna be all grown up now. You know, more so than when ya took out all those Reavers."

River tilted her head to Mal's shoulder, enjoying the affection. From his position against the far wall Jayne struggled not to breath too deeply, trying to turn his face towards an air vent. Even doing se he couldn't help the twitch as he saw her leaning into the Captain, Mal's arm thrown around her easily.

Simon smiled. "Well there is a bar that serves fresh lychee, that was always your favourite. We could go there after the meeting?"

Mal nodded. "Sounds like a plan Doc."

River grinned happily at her brother, and the rest of the crew, barring Jayne, chuckled. He didn't want to look at her, didn't want to think about her fighting Reavers or eating lychees, didn't want to imagine licking juice from her neck, watching as she bit into the sweet, plump flesh of the fruit.

He refused to think about it.

His blood hummed nonetheless.

As people were shepherded out of the bridge an alert sounded, which Wash looked at quickly. "Simon, you got a wave here, files attached."

Simon hung back, waiting for the room to empty before turning to the screen. He jumped when he felt a cold hand on his shoulder, turning to looking into River's unblinking eyes.

"Be careful what you wish for."

She left silently, and he struggled not to worry. Predictions from River were rarely made of sunshine and light, but something about this one made him shiver.

He flicked his eyes back to the file attached to the screen, an old medical record.

**In order to begin the first phase of The Program, Academy candidates have been exposed to pheromone accelerants. Dr Michaels has developed these especially for reaction to the peak in hormones experienced during later puberty, in order for maximum development. The increased likelihood should lead to viable next generation candidates. The Program is being adjusted accordingly, with heightened sensitivity experienced by all candidates subjected to Ares.**

Simon hissed in frustration at the snippet onscreen. Not enough, not enough to figure out what they were truly implying. But perhaps enough to validate some initial blood tests.

As he saved the file and flicked off the screen he could hear River's voice ringing in his ears.

He would be careful.

At least…he would try.


	6. Chapter 6

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

Mal grinned as he shook Badger's hand. For the first time since Miranda he felt like maybe they had a chance of resting for a while. The deal was easy, lucrative work, but needed to be kept on the down low. An insurance scam cooked up by a desperate town that were getting bled dry by a hording dictator. Serenity's crew just needed to go in, steal the loot, and the insurance would take over the rest.

The job would pay well, especially if they timed it just right. Well enough that they could stay in the Black while Zoe gave birth, well enough to not risk having baby Washburne born anywhere that rogue Alliance soldiers desired revenge.

Codes, blueprints; Kaylee and Wash were going to have a field day with the data discs Badger handed over, and the little man nodded.

"Always nice ta see ya Cap'n."

Mal smirked. "Come on now Badger, ain't no need ta lie."

Badger chuckled. Recent events had given Mal something he hadn't had in the many years before Miranda; a purpose, a drive, a feeling of connection to the morality he'd long thought dead. The difference in the Captain was startling; almost as if he'd mellowed slightly. Badger wasn't fooled, Reynolds would still shoot someone looking at one of his crewmembers the wrong way, maybe even faster than before, but since the little man had proven his worth by getting them into hiding after Miranda some bonds had been forged.

Badger nodded at River. She gave him a sweet smile as she stepped forward, and he couldn't help but return it. The girl was about the shiniest penny he'd seen since he left Dyton, and her way of playing on his accent tended to make him laugh. Not to mention the fact that she was smart as a whip and had once told him about a staff member's thievery from his private cellar.

Never touch a Dyton man's beer.

He'd never had a niece or daughter, and having someone to spoil made him happy. He wanted to come up with a lecherous excuse or even some underhanded act that he was doing it to piss off Mal. He knew he couldn't. The girl was a sweetheart, there was something magical about her, and she seemed to recognise that he enjoyed spending time with her just to listen to her spout strangeness.

Still, their visits were usually more pleasant when Mal's merc wasn't standing at the far end of the room. Badger appreciated the professionalism the big man was showing by guarding the doorway, but frankly those blue eyes weren't particularly reassuring. He had the unpleasant sensation of a wolf waiting to bite. Badger quirked a brow when River stepped into his open arm for a brief hug, Jayne's eyes narrowing and his hand heading instinctively to his weapon as Badger hugged her back.

Badger smirked. Maybe not professionalism. Maybe something else.

Still, he didn't have time to play games, and he tipped River's chin up. "Happy Birthday kitten. Got you a nice present, but ya can't be openin' it til ya back in the Black, _dong ma_?"

She smiled, her eyes glittering in that way that told him she already knew the contents of the long package he handed her. He didn't care, the smile she shot him was radiant and she kissed his cheek as Mal rolled his eyes.

"Badger, if yer 'bout done flirtin' with my Reader we'll be on our way."

Badger grinned. "Now now Mal, don't go rushin' me, few more pretties an' she'll be wan'in' ta stay behind."

Mal's merc let out a grunt and headed out through the door, and Badger felt River tense under his arm. Mal sighed.

"Moody _hun dan_. Come'n 'Tross, let's get goin' afore he gets bored and shoots someone."

Mal turned to leave and Badger took the opportunity to watch River's eyes. They'd followed the merc out the door and kept watching as if she could see through the wall, and he tightened his arm to get her attention.

"Ya best follow him darlin'."

She nodded, moving away with the package under her arm, stopping when he grabbed at her wrist.

"Be careful lil bit."

She smiled but it didn't quite reach her ancient eyes, and Badger sighed as he released her. He watched her follow her Captain out, and silently prayed she wouldn't have use for his present anytime soon.

Especially not on Cobb.

* * *

_Released, free, hunting._

_The scent coats his throat and his bare feet pound, searching for the avenue to follow._

_Getting close._

* * *

Jayne puffed on the cigar, rolling it to the other side of his mouth as Mal and River exited Badger's hidden offices. The sun was setting and he was about ready to find himself a big drink and a buxom woman. Anything to take the jealous edge off, anything to stop the image of her smiling at the grimy little rodent like he was a hero.

He huffed, exhaling smoke into the cool night.

Presents. He scoffed.

Girl was turning 18 and they were meant to buy things to congratulate her for living that long? He ignored the little voice in his head that said given her history maybe a celebration wasn't too farfetched.

When he turned 18 it was on a filthy mining ship. He'd been off his homeworld for 4 years already, and on the ship for two. Nobody had bothered to learn his name.

They hadn't thought he would live that long.

The walk back to the ship was short, and he waited for the others in the cargo bay, eager to get his drink and woman and try once more to outrun the urge to show her an eighteenth she'd never forget.

* * *

Simon was ready to pull his hair out as he looked at yet another dead end on the screen. All these notes, articles, blacked out or half missing, like someone had made an effort to purge anything and everything of use from the data. He heard the Captain calling them into the cargo bay for River's birthday dinner, and he cursed under his breath.

Flicking one last page open he stifled a scream; still nothing. The Program might as well have been a page full of the words *file not found*. He squinted at an old data sheet that had been scanned into the cortex. Almost every word was blacked out, but the job had been rushed, and he caught the edge of something.

M A.

Letters. Useless.

He shut off the screen and headed down into the bay.

* * *

_Night air had cooled the scent of the bustling city. He could smell her better now. He could taste the air around him, the thick perfume coating his throat, heady and rich._

_Closer._

* * *

Badger's venue suggestion was good. The bar was filled with smoke and music, whores moving between tables as serving girls balanced trays of drinks, but the food was excellent and Badger's tab was open. River had let Inara put that peach dress on her and comb her hair, though she refused to change out of her heavy combat boots.

Kaylee grinned as she plonked down in the large booth. "Oh this is so shiny! We ain't had a night out in so long."

Simon smiled tiredly as he sat down next to her, River perching delicately on his other side. "Yes, I think we've deserved this."

Zoe let Wash pull out a chair for her while Mal ordered drinks with the waitress. Book grinned as he flicked through the menu, overjoyed to see real vegetables and fresh produce for once. Jayne took the seat at the far end, eyes combing over the crowd, inspecting the only thing he was interested in.

He refused to acknowledge the lie in that statement, refused to acknowledge that his interest was in the thin girl and her pale peach dress rather than well made up whores.

The smoke, whisky and scent of sweat still didn't disguise the smell that had been haunting him for so long, and he swallowed thickly. There wasn't that hint of anticipation, of ripening anymore. It smelled like a _gorram _harvest and his mouth watered. He'd been hungry for months, filled with this energy for months, and it was worse, as if it had amplified.

He felt whisky eyes rest on his neck and resolutely stood, moving to engage a stranger in a round of pool. Mal sighed.

"Guess he ain't feelin' all that sociable tonight." He grinned at River. "No matter, we got some goodies for you."

Jayne watched from across the room as she opened her presents. He saw them grinning as River opened the holo viewer, and he knew she'd wanted one for a while. He saw Mal and Zoe look pleased as she opened the new Kevlar vest they'd ordered, the one with the little dinosaur embroidered over the heart.

He picked up Wash's voice over the din, explaining that was where the Reaver pole nearly hit, so he wanted it to look extra scary for her. The tinkling laugh she sounded out went straight to his crotch, and he resisted the urge to plant his hands over his ears.

He knew from experience that it wouldn't help.

* * *

_Twist, turn, another corner rounded at full speed._

_His mouth watered._

_So close._

* * *

Kaylee blushed and Inara smiled indulgently as the girl opened some flat package with tissue paper inside. He caught a flash of red silk and looked away too late; the image had seared itself into his brain. He lined up a shot with more force than necessary, sending the balls hurtling into their pockets fast enough to break bone.

Simon was looking a little red around the ears but he handed over the small package, relaxing when she opened it and took out the tiny music box. Whatever passed between the siblings was private, but she leaned forward to embrace him.

Jayne hated feeling jealous of that brotherly hug.

Something pricked at the corner of his awareness. He snapped upright, ignoring the protests of his opponent as he felt his hair stand on end.

Something was coming.

* * *

_There, up ahead._

_Showtime._


	7. Chapter 7

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **You're gonna yell at me for this…rating to go up next chap for some adult themes.

* * *

River's head snapped up at the same time Jayne's did, and he twisted just as something crashed through the nearby window. Screams echoed through the bar as glass shattered, patrons throwing themselves out of the way. Jayne watched as the thing righted itself.

A mirror.

It was the same height as he was, broad shoulders bare. The hair was tangled and long but the wiry body was humming with energy. He recognised that energy, saw himself in every taut muscle, every tense movement. The pants were beyond filthy, worn and dirty, but the eyes sparkled with some measure of intelligence and a desperate, hostile aggression.

And something else.

Something that resonated with Jayne and made this game all the more deadly.

The thing snarled as it whipped around, nose leading it before it's eyes caught up, and Jayne saw its intended direction.

He didn't think, snapping out the pool cue just as the man-thing dove at his crewmembers. Mal and Wash bolted upright as Zoe struggled to move, cursing the large bump halting her progress. Simon's eyes went wide as he caught sight of a mark on the thing's arm, and it recovered from the pool cue that had splintered across its chest, ignoring the little cuts left behind.

Every crewmember caught the pent up, vicious look in the thing's eyes, and they knew they were in trouble.

Mal's voice bellowed through the bar. "Ship, NOW!"

They bolted, going in different directions to avoid the thing, and Jayne was relieved when it didn't show any interest in Zoe. Still, he had a feeling he knew why, and as his crewmates ran for their lives he watched the thing lunge for River. She slammed a boot across it's face but it didn't slow down, and her eyes were wide as she bolted through the back door. Any other day Jayne would have been ready to follow the rest of the crew back to the ship, but the thing had sprinted after River, and he couldn't help the tugging that made him dive through the open window after them.

In the distance he heard his crewmates calling out to their missing members.

She was fast, always had been, but that thing was fast too. He'd lost visual but the scent didn't lie, and he bolted after it, his body rejoicing as he gave in to the call he'd been fighting for months. Years of tracking were unrequired as he followed that scent into the night, sprinting through back alleys until he saw a factory up ahead.

Empty, abandoned.

A perfect hunting ground.

He didn't have time to contemplate why he knew that, why he felt some connection to whatever was in that factory, why he understood what would await River if he didn't get to the thing first.

He just knew.

He slammed through the door, splintering it as he entered to see her steeling herself for the attack. The thing sprang but he was faster, tackling it to the ground. It twisted and clawed, snarling and throwing out punches with speed and strength. He roared as he slammed into it again, a roundhouse sending it across the room. It jumped straight back up, barely winded, and Jayne met it at a run, one outstretched arm knocking it to the floor.

It sliced his feet out from under him but his vision was red and his blood was screaming, months of energy asserting themselves as he tore it down with him. He slammed the head into the ground, dazing it long enough to get himself upright.

He didn't think as he picked it up, smashing its head into a wooden beam over and over until blood ran down the destroyed face, bones shattered and body limp as it slid to the floor. A man, just a man, but something was wrong with it. A mark on its arm caught his attention but when the body twitched he scowled. He slammed down one steel capped boot, shattering its skull and sending fragments throughout the room.

He stared, breathing heavily, his blood still hissing and crackling. The scent of death and innards should have covered it but that smell was still there, thick and heavy and heady and rich in the air, and he turned to the source.

She was breathing heavily, thin and lean, the panting making her chest rise and fall. He took a step forward-

**File Not Found**


	8. Chapter 8

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Yes, yes, I was super naughty in the last chapter. Couldn't resist :) And I'm sorry this is so short, the next chap is a big'un so I had to seperate it out. If I'm going to slow shout out yeah?

* * *

Mal had always thought of himself as a patient man.

Some may have laughed at that theory but the truth was he worked hard at keeping his temper in check. In the war he'd needed to stay patient with young recruits who had fire and bloodlust in their eyes and barely more than fuzz on their chins. He'd needed it then to deal with the piss and vigour that turned quickly to thousand yard stares.

He needed it now.

It was a necessary trait with a crew like this one. Wash was strung tighter than a bow at the moment with his child being at risk every time they touched down, and Zoe's stoic exterior was taking a beating. Simon's obsession with finding out information regarding the Academy was bordering on psychotic, and Kaylee's gentle heart needed constant reminders of its warmth and value.

Inara's tongue drove him crazy, though nowadays it was sometimes for a good reason, and Book's slow healing after the Haven massacre required careful handling. River…his hidden weapon, his ward and the ship's darling, seemed to be getting better with each passing day.

Unless Jayne was involved.

His merc had proven himself again and again since Miranda, occasionally even seeming to relish the role of protector. But the constant feeling that something wasn't quite right with the big man had been wearing Mal down for some time, and the Captain's heart raced as he glared over his incomplete crew.

He felt his patience wear thin.

They'd all regrouped at the ship only to find that two of their number weren't here. He could have sworn he'd seen Jayne chasing down that thing, but River had disappeared from the picture before he could even realize what the thing they'd seen was hunting.

The girl.

Their girl.

Mal gritted his teeth. "Where the _guay _are they?"

* * *

_Yes._

_Finally._

_The scent was overwhelming him, intoxicating, combining with taste and sight and sound and the fucking feel._

_The haze of red was only getting darker._

_Screams rang through the night._

* * *

"_Cao!"_

Griggs flinched as Chan threw a beaker into the wall, uncaring as the glass shattered inches from a Breeder's head. How Chan could ignore the vicious snarling of the caged thing was beyond him, but the doctor just scowled and continued his tirade.

The view-chip they'd lodged in the Breeder's eye had provided them with a promising picture at first. No one had laid eyes on the Academy's finest recruit since the leaked footage from The Maidenhead all those months ago. Griggs would never cease to be amazed that the skinny, young looking thing on the monitor was the most dangerous weapon they'd ever produced.

Chan hissed as the Breeder fought with Serenity's mercenary onscreen, the monitor going dark as it was destroyed. "Faster, stronger, bigger, more resilient, and right when he gets her in his grasp he gets killed by a _GORRAM MERC?"_

Griggs would have flinched again but he'd spotted something. He ran the vid back, pausing it in awe as a flash of the mercenary's arm was frozen on the monitor. Griggs stared.

Chan stared.

And then began to laugh.

* * *

Simon's hands trembled as he worried about his sister. Mal was suggesting a search party, but without their two strongest fighters traversing Persephone was madness. Badger had answered their call, mobilizing every street rat, thug and personal guard at his disposal to help find their wayward crewmates.

The little man's eyes had locked with Simon's, anxiety radiating outwards.

Simon flicked on the cortex screen, desperate to help. The thing had a mark on its arm, Simon thought it was lettering, and he had a sneaking suspicion he knew what letters they were. He began searching through his data files, desperate to obtain information on the significance of MA to The Program.

Those letters were so _gorram _familiar.

Simon felt a twinge at the edge of his psyche as his brain struggled to place them.

* * *

He woke up.

His mouth tasted of dried blood and his skin felt scratchy, dry. He was parched. He needed water soon, his entire body feeling like a desert. He struggled to orient himself in the dark. The coolness in the air suggested very early morning, and his eyes fought for some form of light with which to adjust.

If you want to find someone use your eyes.

Something was resting across his chest, and he rolled away, trying to wake up fully. It was hard without a speck of light to use.

Still, he had other ways to ground himself.

Inhaling deeply he let his brain attempt to categorize the available odours. Concrete and long laid dust, sprinkled through the air as if recently disturbed. Sawdust, a remnant from the factory's original purpose, as well as the scent of grease. He smelt something else in the room, the strangest aroma of death and gore and…something else.

His brain was blank; he remembered running, he remembered fighting.

He kipped to his feet, grimacing as his back strained. He cursed the darkness, trying to find a light switch, and he realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. His back was on fire, and he ran a hand across his chest and stomach. Sticky, tacky sores across his chest, stinging as his fingers found deep scratches and fresh bruising.

Last night.

That thing…that...

He paused as a name flashed up in his mind, dug up from some unknown depth to the forefront of his brain.

Breeder.

He shivered, feeling cool air sting bad cuts.

Something about that word. Something old buried inside a memory he hadn't needed to face in 32 years of living. He shook his head, wishing it would clear the feeling of cobwebs laying across his mind.

His body screamed, a mix of fresh damage and bone deep aching.

Exhaustion.

He hadn't felt exhausted in months.

Freezing air was binding his lungs, the feeling making his chest hitch, jerking at his wounds.

The fight…he'd been hurt but not this badly.

The…thing was dead, he remembered stomping on its head until little more than shattered bone and grey matter remained. The musty, damp air carried another smell on it, the scent of old fuel and grease no longer the only thing coating his nostrils and tongue. Something else.

What the fuck had happened?

He could smell someone else in this room and he knew it wasn't just his own blood coating his lips and teeth. He stretched out an arm, walking slowly until he finally hit a wall. When his fingers hit the switch he sighed with relief as light flared throughout the factory.

Until his eyes adjusted.

And his blood ran cold.


	9. Chapter 9

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **So, FYI, I've got Jayne aged around 32.

* * *

**30 YEARS AGO**

Chan sneered. Of all the _gorram _shit hole rocks in the 'verse they had to pick Purgatum. He couldn't complain, not when it was his own research that had uncovered the unusually resilient genes that existed on this planet. Harsh terrain and climate, thick with deadly snakes, spiders and insects of all shapes, and prone to receiving whatever diseases that travellers decided to bring in; perfect. The people were used to the dangerous environment, generations of existence on the planet breeding some of the hardiest stock in the 'verse. Despite the dangers there was good nutrition to be found, if only one knew where to look. Healthy bones, strong physiques, well developed bodies designed specifically for survival.

All of it pointed to an ideal location to scout for their subjects, and as he swatted a fly the size of a fist he knew he'd made the right choice.

Didn't mean everyone was happy.

Marie Carmichael was surveying the room with narrowed eyes. He stifled a groan of irritation. Even with the enhanced genes their subjects were still fragile, and the Ares compound was notoriously volatile. It was bonding with their systems too quickly for most to survive the changes, and even on reduced doses they had lost almost 90% of their candidates. Of the twelve children who survived their treatment only 8 showed signs of strong, positive bonding, and only 3 were believed to be prime candidates.

He was relieved the people on this rock bred so fast; big families made up for the already high mortality rate. When they'd first arrived to scout and set up he'd been pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to convince the town of an epidemic. Despite their hard eyes and dangerous tempers they cared deeply for their children. His crew had been careful to source offspring from the many brothels, hoping to reduce parental involvement while also catching those children whose systems would be most likely to have received antibodies from birth. The 'hospital' they'd set up had dealt gently but firmly with those parents whose children had, ever so sadly, not survived their…inoculation. It was strange seeing their waiting room filled with scantily clad whores, their usually hardened faces clouded with worry.

It made him chuckle.

A few words of medical jargon, a carefully comforting tone, and the women were happy with their children staying in confinement to avoid further exposure to the imagined virus. Life was good. With funding already in place for Matthias' proposed Academy, and with a few very positive results of The Program, it looked like things were finally coming together. Soon they could get off this rock and head back to the Core, forgetting this aptly named pit of hell even existed.

Which is why it rankled that Carmichael was still looking like she'd swallowed a bug.

The young scientist had been a last minute addition, she was barely 19 and still earning her qualification, but there was a streak of ambition in her that had reminded Chan of himself. She enjoyed her work immensely, but PR was not her game, and she was getting tired of the frightened faces.

She hissed. "They're getting suspicious. No other town children are sick, and if we stay here much longer they'll start to realize something is amiss."

Chan smiled, the expression failing to reach his eyes. "No matter my dear; we've just received word. We'll be packed up and off this rock tomorrow."

At her relieved look he nodded at the room. "Get the failing ones out of here and the positive candidates prepared for transport. We're leaving first thing in the morning."

A snap sounded as a tiny fist broke off a piece of the plastic crib it was confined to. Chan smirked. "Make sure the MAs have extra security."

He strode out of the room, ready for a good night's sleep.

Marie's eyes followed him. She was lucky to be in the hands of such a strong mentor, and she knew others would kill for her position. Early involvement in the Alliance's latest project would set her up for life. The Ares compound, though unstable, was still producing some incredible results. It had been so positive that an offhand comment she'd made about antibody development had led to some initial stage research into creating a mirror compound. Unnamed as yet, but it should produce some incredibly peaceful results.

She was about to reach for her note pad when something hard and cold pressed into her back. Her breathing hitched; this was a secure facility, how the hell had someone gotten in?

The voice in her ear was feminine and dangerous. "My son, now."

Marie schooled her face into the calming, sweet visage she'd been working on so hard, her voice sweet and understanding. "They are still at risk miss-"

A sharp pain as her knees were kicked forwards, sending her to the floor. She turned to look at her attacker, eyes going wide. The girl had been here every single day, constantly questioning, one of the few who refused to take 'it is complicated' as an answer. The long black hair hung in thick curls, the tight bodice and full, short skirt of her trade revealing slim legs encased in heeled black boots up the her knees. Darkly tanned skin and sharp cheekbones, along with the young body, were likely to keep her with clients for a long time, and her protectiveness was legendary amongst the other workers.

She couldn't have been a day over 16, but pain and anger had hardened her face to maturity long before its time. Marie looked behind her anxiously, feeling terrified when she realized the girl wasn't alone. A huge wolfhound was snarling behind her, his eyes trained forward, brown pelt shaggy but well groomed. The dog had been a thorn in the side of all hospital staff since day one, and its owner refused to tie him outside.

She kept the handgun trained between Marie's eyes as she glared.

"I want my boy back now."

Her voice was like a whipcrack, and Marie fought to retain her composure. "Miss Cobb…Vera…"

The safety clicked off and Marie gulped as Vera Cobb narrowed cerulean eyes. "I ain't too sure why yer thinkin' o' talkin' when I done gave you an easy instruction."

The wolfhound growled again, hackles rising, and Vera smiled sweetly. "Mattie here don't take too kindly ta being kept waitin'."

Marie gritted her teeth. "Miss Cobb you know we can't-"

The butt of the gun hit her face with a crack, and she struggled to stand as her eyes filled with tears. She thought fast, reaching for a nearby boy with blue eyes, holding him out carefully to Vera. The girl didn't step forward, but Mattie did, sniffing carefully and then baring his teeth at Marie.

Vera shook her head. "That ain't my boy an' ya know it. Go on Mattie."

The dog weaved between the cribs as Marie put the baby back down, her hair standing on end when the dog finally reached its target. It stuck a wet nose into the crib and whuffed happily, tailing wagging when a tiny fist tangled in its hair.

Vera didn't move, keeping the gun trained on Marie as the dog reached into the crib, gently closing its teeth around the little jumpsuit on baby boy Cobb. The baby giggled as it was carried back to Vera, who reached down one handed to grip her son around the waist. The boy was big for his age, and given her size her arm should have been shaking, but she stayed firm as she clutched him, pressing a kiss on his forehead.

He pulled at her hair and her eyes narrowed when she saw his arm. "The hell is that?"

Marie wracked her brains for an excuse. "A marker."

Vera hissed. "You put a gorram tattoo on my baby boy?"

Marie's eyes were wide and sincere. "Please, it denotes a particularly virulent strain of the Phaedre virus, you have to-"

Vera whistled once, shortly, and Mattie crouched low as if ready to attack. Marie swallowed; they couldn't lose this one, not with that MA standing out starkly on his arm, he was too valuable.

She put on her best doctor tone. "It's too dangerous; even if the virus doesn't kill him it will make him a menace. Increased adrenaline, rage, violence…are you sure you can handle all of that?"

Vera nodded, gun locked on Marie but her eyes only for the boy in her arms. "Yes."

The short answer irritated Marie; one of their most important subjects was about to walk out the door because of a gorram whore, and she couldn't control the sneer in her voice. "And just why is that?"

Vera looked at her evenly, and the full force of those blue eyes was disconcerting to say the least. She turned, walking to the door, the dog staying in position, ready to attack if Marie moved. Vera paused in the doorway, turning her head back slightly.

"Because he's my son."

**PRESENT DAY**

She was bare.

Completely, totally bare.

She was lying on her back, thin arm thrown haphazardly over her chest, hair tangled and flung over the floor. Any other day he would have enjoyed the opportunity to study her perfect breasts, narrow waist, tousled curls, the way she bit her lip when she slept. Today he couldn't enjoy it.

The perfect, flawless skin was…

Brutalized.

She was covered in bruises, the ugly black finger marks spanning her hips, her ribcage, her neck. Her shoulder and left breast had visible bites along them. Her jaw was bruised on one side from what must have been a vicious backhand, dried blood in the corner of her mouth.

He moved closely, barely able to breath. The long, lean dancer's legs had more of those large, finger-shaped bruises around the ankles and knees, and his slow movement towards her was halted when he saw the top of her inner thigh.

No...

Please...please no...

Blood.


	10. Chapter 10

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

**FOUR MONTHS AGO**

They were seated around the galley table. It was two months post Miranda, and Wash was bouncing with excitement when he entered the room. Zoe's face was stoic but her mouth twitched with a smile as her husband grinned at his crewmates.

"Can I tell 'em, lamby-toes?"

She nodded and he grinned, looking ready to explode. He turned to his crewmates. Jayne watched him carefully, already having a sneaking suspicion that he knew what was coming. He'd be ready to make a crude comment if the girl wasn't seated right next to him. He'd been able to avoid plenty of proximity, but Mal had put his foot down and demanded a 'family' dinner. The bread basket passed, and he took three.

Months ago one would have disappeared, but now they both simply sat stock still. Their eyes locked briefly and he wondered how anyone else in the room was breathing with the incredible smell hinting the air. He was starving, crackling with energy, and he knew that even if he ate everything at the table he'd still be hungry.

His choice of last meal stared at him evenly. She twitched minutely before reaching one slim hand forward to take a roll from his plate.

He couldn't move as she took it back, all too aware that something darkly alluring was staring back from those brown eyes.

She blushed.

It was fast, barely perceptible, but it was there.

She looked down nervously for a second before looking back up, raising a brow as if to dare him to comment.

Something about the challenging look made his blood pump even faster, and he leaned forward.

"WE'RE HAVING A BABY!"

The exclamation jerked him from his movement, and he felt relieved when River got up to join the congratulatory crowd. Mal bitched halfheartedly, but Jayne spotted the look he shot Zoe. They'd shared that look in a million different battle situations, and Jayne had decided it must mean 'well done'.

He felt his blood slow, barely, but it was enough to let him relax slightly and join in the congratulations, even throwing out a comment that made Kaylee hit the back of his head. He grinned as Wash brought out a bottle of whisky to share, and as the evening wore on he felt something settle in his stomach.

If it wasn't for the way he couldn't seem to look anywhere but the girl, he'd have almost sworn it was happiness.

**PRESENT DAY**

The blood on her thigh made bile rise in his throat.

He caught sight of himself in a shard of broken glass. His chest was sliced up, and he knew where he'd find the missing pieces of flesh. Her fingertips…nails…

His cheekbone was shattered, his eye was black, and he could feel the tearing in his back from where scratches as horrific as the ones of his chest must be laying.

The slim form shivered.

He needed to cover her. He spotted his heavy jacket in the corner and willed his horrified body to move before his mind splintered. He picked it up, relieved when it didn't reek of sex, and moved stiffly back towards her. He pulled Nikki from the inner pocket, Shauna already at his hip, Binky at his ankle. He took out the grenade and stuffed it in his boot, but couldn't bring himself to take out Jax from the jacket. His hands were shaking uncontrollably as he carefully placed the heavy material over her small frame, the effort of trying not to wake the sleeping girl taking all his concentration for one merciful moment.

The jacket was big but he could still see thin legs, and when she shifted in her sleep he saw the blood on her thigh once more.

Tracks marks in his arms, exhaustion in his eyes, all indicators of months spent trying to control whatever had been humming through his veins. But something was missing, the thing that had driven him to work out near constantly, to need more food than he'd ever eaten before.

For the first time in months he felt full, sated.

The thought made him feel ill.

One shaking hand covered his mouth as the reality of what he was witnessing began to set in. He turned towards the corner, his stomach bringing up what felt like everything he'd ever eaten in the last few years.

He stepped back, breathing heavily through his mouth as the agony set into his chest, as his hands came up to scrape their fingers through his hair, as he began to walk backwards, the words coming out in a whispered, horrified jumble.

"No…no no no no no no." His voice was getting louder, but he couldn't fight to terror and disgust raging in his body, couldn't make his mouth silence itself. "Fuck, cao, no, fucking…no no no NOOOOOOOOOOO!" His fist swung out, slamming into a beam, the bones in his hand breaking with the impact as he slammed them into the wood over and over. Finally he gripped the splintered wood, and for the first time since he was a child he felt his breathing hitch uncontrollably, sinking to his knees beside her. He tried to gasp, his frozen lungs not taking in air, his heart racing as it struggled to deal with what he was looking at.

The girl was brutalized. The only mercy in the empty factory was the fact that she was asleep, her breathing ragged, face screwing up whenever she shifted. There were shreds of material nearby, and he'd bet his bottom dollar it was her dress in pieces.

Last night…

He couldn't remember. Flashes of skin, glimpses of the feel of her.

A sigh into the night.

He shook himself, wondering just how deranged he must be to have imagined that sigh to be one of pleasure, release, feminine and delicate.

He looked down again at the sleeping girl and her marked form.

That deranged…

He tried to think, tried to fight the overwhelming, crushing tide of guilt and horror. She was stirring, his horrified tirade probably waking her up, and he knew he had to get her to help. There was only one place he would trust to look after her.

The one place where he would surely be killed.

And, quite frankly, he wanted it.

He scooped her sleeping form into his arms carefully, relieved that the heavy jacket covered some of the damage that had…he swallowed…that he had dealt. Still, even with dried blood coating his nostrils he could still smell her, the air around her like thick honey, and he felt anguish pricking in his eyes when his body and blood began to react.

He had to get her back soon, before he destroyed her.

He turned for the door, stepping over the obliterated head of the Breeder. Something caught his eyes and gave him a second of pause.

It's arm.

There on its arm, in a place that he'd seen on his own body a million times, were the letters MA.

He paused, the sharp movement making her twitch in his arms, and he shook his head to clear it, running out into the night.

* * *

Simon could have cried with relief when he finally found the page. It was an ancient data file, decades old, but it was mercifully bare of the black marks that had hidden words and entire paragraphs previously.

**Whilst so many of the candidates did not bond well to the Areas compound, some have shown a vast improvement. Those candidates who did not bond well have experienced nausea, irregular heartbeats, cardiac arrest and, eventually, death. These Lesser Betas, or LBs, have been disposed of appropriately. Of the roughly 120 candidates chosen for initial experimentation only 12 have survived.**

**The candidates showing positive responses have been examined closely. Some are still in very early stages of bonding, and whilst the reaction has been positive, they still require intense monitoring. The compound is likely to rule their systems, eradicating the measure of intelligent thought. The Immature Alphas, or IAs, are being kept under close surveillance. Only 8 of the 12 survivors are ranked as IAs. They will be fit for purpose; their fertility levels and early development indicate excellent future application. However, they are most likely unsuitable for public deployment, and should be handled with great care.**

**Those few candidates who have shown greater development and who's systems have not only bonded with but incorporated and evolved the Ares compound are able to retain much of their function, except when exposed to the charted pheromones. A rare few have flourished spectacularly, their reflexes, strength, stamina and resilience is incredible. These Mature Alphas, or MAs, are likely to create the strongest second generation of Academy candidates, and may even be placed in training and education if the compound will lay dormant until subject to exposure. Their use is not limited to the intended breeding purposes, provided they are handled with care. The aggression is startling, but likely to become more controlled throughout physical maturity. The program started out with 3 Mature Alphas, but it has been revealed that one of these died unexpectedly during the night, as recorded by one Marie Carmichael. The remaining two are brilliant examples of the Ares complex in full use.**

**Despite the physical reactions such as increased heart rate and rising body temperature, these side effects are already lessening, and with time and puberty they will likely respond normally until exposed to an Academy candidate.**

**The Program is progressing with excellent results, and we anticipate long term gain to be found in these candidates.**

Simon couldn't breathe.

…**one of these died unexpectedly during the night…**

Jayne's fevers.

Jayne's heart rate.

Jayne's constant exercise and seemingly endless appetite and energy.

Jayne's immediate trips to any available cathouse.

Jayne's avoidance of River.

Jayne's eyes tracking her, twitching whenever she silently entered a room, knowing she was there without even looking.

Jayne's tattoo.

A dragon, a yin and yang encircling…

Simon struggled not to vomit. As a doctor this document was everything that he stood against, everything that he hated in the 'verse.

As a brother he was petrified.

He sprang up when he heard a shout from the cargo bay, sprinting down the hallway.

* * *

Book and Kaylee waited for Mal in the cargo bay, ready to head out and search for their wayward crew members. The preacher fought his terror; after the massacre on Haven…

He closed his eyes.

The sounds of the gunfire, the screaming, the shouting…the death. The anger that had overtaken him at the sight of his people, good people, strewn about, littered along the ground like so much human garbage. The rage as he'd opened fire on the ship, the feeling of vengeance and relief when it had come crashing down.

When Serenity had landed he'd been standing over the corpse of the Alliance soldier who had destroyed his haven. Mal had stared, as had the rest of the crew, their eyes filling with tears at the sight of all the innocent laid out. River had knelt beside the soldier's mutilated corpse, her eyes hard and mouth pursed. Only Jayne had approached him, silently removing the hunting knife slick with blood, not saying a word as he wrapped one arm around Book and lead him back to the ship. His blue eyes had held no judgement as he'd sat Book down, bringing over a wet towel to remove the blood form his hands.

He'd kept his voice low. "Ya did the right thing."

Book had shook his head, his voice hoarse. "Never."

Jayne had left Book alone with his grief as Mal had begun ordering the abuse of their flying home in order to pass through Reaver space. River had come to him, placing a cool hand on his shoulder, her eyes unusually lucid as she spoke in hushed tones.

"Faith…you will be fixed."

The tears had started. On Miranda he'd struggled to breath as they watched the scientist in the holo-vid, terror and fear in her eyes as she was attacked. Through Reaver space and their bumpy landing his eyes had dried and his heart had grown hard. When he'd stood on the bridge, watching as Wash landed them, he felt his faith draining completely. When the Reaver pole had advanced through the window he'd suddenly found his voice, screaming for Wash to move, the pilot diving out of the way milliseconds before being impaled.

They'd survived. Bloodied and beaten they'd survived. And Book would remember the sight of those blast doors opening forever. He would remember Kaylee's injured form and Simon's bleeding and the Washburne's silent agony and Mal's wide eyes and Inara's tears and Jayne's eyes on the girl.

And the image of her standing over those bodies would be seared into his memory forever.

Something had welled in his chest as he looked upon their dark angel.

Faith.

His recovery was slow but the crew refused to push him, only reminding him without words that he was home. He was petrified that the two missing members were in danger, and as Kaylee fought back worried tears he felt his heart grow heavy once more.

Suddenly the mechanic's face lit up for a second before filling with horror. Book turned towards the ramp. Jayne, bare chested, bloodied and beaten, was standing there, face a mask of blank shock.

And in his arms, wrapped in a familiar green cargo jacket, was their Reader.


	11. Chapter 11

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **If you're still reading, thank you. It takes a lot of trust to continue when this story seems to be going down such a bloody dark road, and every one of your reviews have been a wonderful experience. I am truly humbled and grateful, and I love reading your comments (some of which are just so spot on or introduce angles never before considered!).

* * *

Book was frozen as Jayne knelt, placing her gently on the ground. The mercenary watched as she began to open her eyes, dark circles beneath them as she slowly began to recognise him. Her eyes went wide and he struggled to talk, to say something, anything.

His voice was a hoarse whisper. "I…Ri…I'm sorry…"

She was shaking her head and Jayne's throat seemed to close as she tried to speak. Guilt was pouring from him as he stood, and he turned his eyes towards Book. The shepherd suddenly felt something other than fear and sympathy for his crewmates as he recognised something darkly ashamed in those blue eyes.

It was morning. They'd been gone for hours. Jayne's knuckles were bloodied and his chest torn up by what looked like…

Nail marks.

He felt his throat close over as Jayne hung his head. The big man couldn't even look at Kaylee, who was holding her hands to her mouth as she looked at River's beaten form wrapped in that jacket.

He watched her struggle to wakefulness. At the sight of those brown eyes his blood started pumping, his mouth watering, his muscles wanting to tense for attack and the darkness in his mind trying to take hold.

Kaylee gasped as the lust took over his face.

Jayne flinched.

He couldn't stay here, couldn't watch the disgust and fury in their eyes, couldn't see Mal forced to pull the trigger. He couldn't wait for her to find her voice, for the screaming to begin, for her shaking to start when she realized what he'd done to her.

More than anything, he couldn't risk doing it again.

He turned, walking slowly off the ramp, each step quickening as his heart felt like a vice was closing around it. He heard Kaylee's scream behind him as he bolted into the distance, and he knew he'd never forget the look in the shepherd's eyes. He'd never forget the way his heart had felt torn from his chest, knowing the family he'd found would want him hunted like an animal.

And he'd never, ever forget that he deserved it.

He wanted to end it himself, wanted to show them he could do what was right, but something in his brain niggled. The mark on the Breeder's arm, the same one he had. It may have been covered by other symbols as he got older, but it could never be completely hidden, and his mother had never explained how a baby had wound up with a mark like that.

He narrowed his eyes.

Were there more? Where there other things like the one from last night…like himself?

He needed to know, needed to see, needed to find out what was happening to him, why he could have done something like that.

He would find them.

He would destroy them.

And then he would put himself down like a dog.

* * *

Mal paced the corridor of the infirmary. Every now and then he would stop, pause, as if it would make Simon open those doors faster. The doctor had taken one look at his sister and gone very pale, ordering her transport to the infirmary with a shaking voice. Mal wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to carry the thin, beaten body to the room, but carry it he did. She was partially awake, trying to speak through a hoarse throat, and he had fought back tears when her mouth had begun to form the name of his ex-mercenary.

Simon had kicked him out, saying that he wanted privacy.

Now the crew was gathered in the lounge outside, tense and terrified. Mal couldn't even think straight; he had led men into battle before, he had known some would die, and he had seen some vile, horrible things in the war.

But this was his crew, the people who shared his home. That girl had suffered so much, and for all those months of healing to be ripped away, by someone she…

He stopped, and couldn't contain his howl of fury as he slammed a hand into the far wall. His crew, silently horrified, now flinched as he drew back.

His voice was shaking with anger. "How…HOW THE FUCK DID HE…he's a dead man!"

The crew were silent as he ranted on, and he knew they were just as angry, just as concerned, just as out for blood as he was.

He struggled to form the words, fury lacing every syllable, and he fought back the frustrated tears that wanted to burst forth. A quiet voice in the corner had him turning.

"Mal…I think there's something we don't know…"

A fight. Just what he wanted.

Mal strode up to Inara, breathing heavily as he spoke to her in a horrifically calm voice. "Oh, is there? Well then, that'll excuse it…pardon me fer wantin' him dead fer what he did ta that girl…I'll stop now, thank goodness ya-"

Inara's voice was a hiss of fury, a tear rolling down her cheek. "_Bi zui!_ Listen to me! I'm not saying…" she drew a shaky breath. "I know what it looks like, but he came to me the other night, and-"

Mal laughed. "Oh good, so yer sayin' he was satisfied back then an' he wouldn'ta done this?"

Inara's eyes flashed and her voice took on that polite tone that made him feel about an inch tall. "No, I was not implying that we had sex and he felt fine. I was saying that he was worried about something, that something was bothering him, and I tried to get him to open up but he got uncomfortable and left."

Mal rolled his eyes, pitching back to look at the others. "Ya hear that? The _gorram duh liao muhng _was worried 'bout somethin'!"

Book's deep voice cut over the Captain's ranting. "Captain, I don't think she is trying to excuse him…but I saw his face myself. Whatever happened is something he was…deeply, deeply ashamed of…and perhaps there is more at play than we know."

Mal felt his chest seizing up as he thought about the battered body he'd carried into the infirmary. His albatross, his ward, the girl who had suffered so much and still made him smile, who had given him back his belief, who had given him faith. She was in that room, looking brutalized, and they were trying to reason with him?

His voice was laced with disbelief. "_Jien tah duh guay! _Do ya hear what yer sayin'? Maybe you didn't have ta pick her up but I sure did; the _qingwa cào de liúmáng _fuckin'…did ya not see the blood on her thigh?"

Inara's voice cut through the din. "Mal, think about Canyon."

The memory came to the forefront of his mind instantly. He'd never had the word clusterfuck be used so appropriately than on that day. It had been only a few months past Miranda, a week after Zoe's pregnancy became common knowledge, and his first mate had insisted on coming with them. The job was low key, easy.

They should have known better.

River had been off that day, watching Jayne like a hawk, and for his part the big man was humming with so much energy Mal had briefly wondered if there were drugs involved. So when Joey Granger and Lee Pitt had swapped private smirks Mal knew something was going to go down. The ambush had hit them hard, and he'd sworn when the shot hit his shoulder blade. It had sent him to the floor, head knocking against the table, and his last vision before unconsciousness took over was the sight of Zoe falling towards a splintered table leg.

When he'd woken up he was in the infirmary. Zoe had been checked over by Simon; if she'd hit the table leg it would have gone straight through her abdomen. Outside the infirmary he saw Jayne kneeling by the window, and River was standing beside her Captain's bed.

Mal had gripped her wrist. "What happened?"

If she heard him she hadn't given an indication. There was blood on her clothes, though none of it seemed to have come from her, and he had a feeling she'd gone into melee mode. Her eyes were trained at the window where Jayne was kneeling.

Simon had smiled as he checked over Mal's now bandaged wound. "You were dragged out of there. Good thing Jayne's reflexes are up to scratch."

Mal had snorted. "Good thing? The _hun dan _ain't got a scratch on him."

Simon had frowned. "He got River and Zoe onto the mule and went back in for you on his own. If he hadn't knocked out River and pulled her from the crowd she might not have made it."

Zoe nodded. "Sir, if he hadn't grabbed me…"

Mal's mouth had gone dry as he watched Jayne. The big man flushed, obviously realizing he was being spoken about, and Mal saw Wash approach him. The pilot didn't say anything, but his entire mind was written on his face, and Jayne had rolled his eyes uncomfortably.

Mal was shot back out of the memory as Inara spoke again. "Do those sound like the actions of a man who could do this?"

Mal struggled. "'Nara, it was a job, he was gettin' paid-"

Zoe shook her head. "No Mal, he forgot the credits."

Mal looked over them. Kaylee seemed to be in shock, and his heart broke even more at the thought that his sunny mechanic had to see something like this. The denial and confusion in her eyes was not enough to sway him, and he gritted his teeth.

"Now look here; you best make yer peace with it. I don't care what he did, what he's done. He's a dead man."

"No."

Mal turned to see Simon emerging from the infirmary, closing the door behind him. The rest of the crew stood, desperate to hear news of their girl.

The doctor looked exhausted and bleak as he spoke. "She has bruises and cuts consistent with assault but her injuries are superficial…"

He trailed off, looking down and taking a breath. Mal could feel the tension rolling off his body, and he knew the young doctor was doing everything in his power not to break down. When he looked back up Mal saw the truth written on his face, and he didn't need the words to know what happened.

"There is strong evidence of sexual violence."

He didn't say rape. He didn't say assault. He used the most clinical, basic terms to describe what his examination had uncovered. Kaylee gasped, bursting into tears, and Inara's arms went around her, water leaking from her eyes. Wash looked on in disbelief, one hand gripped on Zoe's arm, the first mate sitting still as a stone.

Book couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and Mal felt the fury in his chest multiple as his fears were confirmed.

"Doc, I swear, he won't survive the night."

Simon shook his head. "No."

Something about the short answer set Mal off, and he strode forward, shouting into the doctor's face. "How can ya say that? After what he did? Yer sister is lyin' in there an' yer sayin' we shouldn'-"

"Enough!"

Though Simon had faced up to Mal before there had always been a common thread. He would only ever snap if the subject was River, and the results had always been spectacular. There was something different now. Simon's face wasn't just that of a protective brother; there was fury, and Mal had the oddest feeling that it wasn't just about River.

The doctor's hiss was low. "Don't. Don't you dare tell me about my sister. I have been watching over her for my entire life. I have seen her grow up, been there to heal every physical and soul wound she's ever had, and when I finally got her out of that hell hole I spent every day after trying to look after her. She may be your ward but she's my sister. I have been there far longer than any of you, I have been worrying and stressing and fighting for her forever, and I have seen the healing she has experienced in the last few months. I am her brother and her doctor, so if I say there's more at work you better _gorram _listen to me!"

Mal fought the urge to punch Simon for growing balls at a time like this. "What the hell are ya talkin' about?"

Simon sighed, backing down to address the group.

"River is awake, and she would like to speak to all of us."


	12. Chapter 12

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

He stopped outside the factory. His blood was crackling, every muscle in his body telling him to run back to the ship and allow it to repeat its terrible desire. He swallowed thickly. He could fight this, he had to fight this. He needed to end himself before he couldn't control himself again.

But if he was going to hell he wasn't going alone.

Something was telling him that the thing inside the factory wasn't the only one of his kind, in fact the identical marks on their arms proved it. If that thing had wanted River they way he did…

He shook himself.

It there were more…

He stepped inside and was inundated with flashes of memory from the night before.

_Flesh slick with sweat as nails dragged down his back._

_Smooth skin, supple flesh in his mouth._

_Beams smashing, windows breaking._

_Fingers tangling in dark hair, pulling her head back to his chest as he…_

He gulped, stumbling to the floor. He gripped his head in his hands, desperate to stop the images, even more desperate to stop his body's reaction to what his mind was throwing up. When his hand hit his black eye he relished the second of pain, the way the gasping made his torn skin sting was a moment of release. He gasped, the agony of guilt and arousal ripping through his system. For the second time that morning he felt his stomach heave, vomiting up as if his body could purge the sin and lust from his soul.

Another memory, this one far older.

"_Baby, you gotta learn ta control yerself. There are outlets, hell yer lookin' at a house full'o them! You gotta listen carefully, gotta be patient. Iffen you don't learn ta let off steam it's gonna end up bloody."_

_A soft hand on his shoulder behind him, his mother nodding to Gina. "Gotta displace that energy, an' since no boy in this town'll take ya in a fight no more, ya gotta find another way." _

He sat back on his haunches, coughing and clamping hands over his ears as if he could shut out the sound of slapping flesh and vicious roars.

He pulled Binky from its sheath, plunging it shallowly into his leg, and the pain seemed to overtake whatever darkness was raging through his being. He struggled to breath, slowly coming back into himself.

He dragged himself to his feet, looking around the cavernous factory. Several beams had been smashed and splintered, the windows broken. There were bricks shaken loose from the walls, empty crates smashed along the floor. He screwed his eyes shut and dug deep, clutching to the thread of self-control.

He opened them again, this time looking as a tracker would.

"_Ain't nothin' in the 'verse that burns up energy like the wild. Gives ya a calmness."_

The body in the corner was his first stop, and he moved quickly. The stark tattoo on its arm that matched his was a confirmation of some kind of link. The thing was tall and heavily built, much like himself, and he picked up a limp hand. It had the long healed and reopened scars of combat, but the gouges on its arms looked self-inflicted.

He ran Binky under one ragged nail, pulling up grit. He tested it with his eyes, his nose, his tongue.

"_Try again baby."_

_He was ten. The cathouse wasn't the worst place in the world to grow up, but it could have been a snake pit for all he cared. She was there. His mother, all 23 years of her, was stroking his hair as her voice trickled into his ear._

"_Go on now, you gotta use all yer focus, dong ma? Rich folk spend a fortune on meditatin', but this is the best thing in the 'verse fer yer control."_

_He nodded, the action pulling at the blindfold she'd slung over his face. She gave him a few moments, and his hand squeezed hers to indicate that he was ready._

"_Ok baby, now, what do you smell?"_

_He inhaled deeply. "Mattie. Perfume. Sweat."_

_There was a smile in her tone as she spoke. "Well no hwai!"_

_He grinned and continued. "He was outside, near the chop shop." Another inhale. "Grease, oil, metal."_

_Her voice was firm but encouraging. "Go on baby."_

_He worked hard to clear his mind. "Paint, old flecks of it. He ran through the bakers again, smells like flour…an' there's somethin' else."_

_She was silent._

"_Cedar an' pine. The nor'west quarter o' the forest. Older sweat…he was botherin' the lumberjacks again. An' he's been eatin' more o' the O'Grady's chickens, I can smell the blood on his mouth."_

_A clap and a delighted laugh. "Oh baby that's it!"_

_He grinned at the praise but suddenly paused. "Ma?"_

_She went still beside him. _

"_Ma…there's a man here…he smells like that rotgut they sell down near-"_

_He felt her stand rapidly as a frightened shriek sounded from a nearby room. She yanked off the blindfold and whistled twice, sharply. Jayne stood as Mattie knocked his head against his shoulder, allowing the wolfhound to shift him until he was sitting on the bed, guarded._

_He caught sight of his mother bolting through the door, the ancient LeMat in her hand. He heard the shouts, could make out the drunken fury of the dissatisfied customer, his mother's low and threatening voice, the tearful fear of the girl._

_His mother. "Git out. Iffen she don't wanna ply her trade fer you tonight there ain't no takin'."_

_A low grumble and the sound of a hammer cocking. The smell seeped from the cathouse, and suddenly she was back in the room._

_Her young face was dark with anger. Nothing on Purgatum, not the huge and deadly spiders, the poisonous snakes, the vicious packs of mongrel dogs…nothing scared her. His mother was little over five feet tall and every bone in that slim body was reinforced with steel._

_The temper…_

_She muttered low as Mattie knocked his head against her reassuringly. "Some things never change."_

_She turned to Jayne. "Real men ain't got no need ta take what isn't offered, always remember that baby."_

_Jayne, sitting quietly on the edge of his bed, nodded. He knew their tracking session was over for the day, knew she would take him out to the woods later in the week to blow off some steam. Nobody understood him like her, nobody let the violence run free and exhale into the night like she did._

_She ran her fingers through his hair. "Baby, you git ta bed now, I gotta go look after Kira fer a bit, she's a lil shook up. Mattie's gonna stay with ya, dong ma?"_

_He nodded. "Wu dong."_

_Seated he still came up to her ears, and she pressed a fast kiss on his forehead. She swept out of the room and Jayne ran a hand idly over Mattie's back. _

He flinched.

Fine grains of gravel, the kind one found on any street in Persephone. Scrapes along the finger pads, as if it had pulled itself up onto the road. Somewhere underground then. The stench of sweat, old and stale, but also the hint of medicinal alcohol. Finally there was the faint taste of ichthyoid based life forms. Fish.

_The years passed and he kept growing. The temper, the rages; when puberty hit it was like being slammed with a tonne of bricks. A schoolyard taunt turned vicious led to his being home schooled, a strong reaction to some nasty words about his mother led to a month spent in the woods with the woman in question and Mattie, learning everything about tracking and hunting._

He stood, surveying the body once more. There were the fine track marks and pocks of medical equipment. Old bruising around the head suggested multiple knockouts, probably from drugs, the marks indicating that it had been left to fall on its own.

He felt a second of agony. Some connection, some missed chance or fateful road untaken.

_The day before he'd left was his fourteenth birthday. It was also Unification Day. He'd spent the morning grinning as his mother and the other women showed him how to prepare a full lunch, enjoying cooking as a way to focus his mind. Crystal winked at him, and despite his size and experience he still blushed, relieved that he had ways of blowing off steam. He laughed as the garish jokes and ribald antics filled the room, his mother clapping when he spun the flattened dough into the air._

_He'd caught the sea bass the night before, and there had been a few plump rabbits (which Mattie had taken immediate custody of). Baked with fresh celery, garlic and spice from the herb garden, they would make a delicious meal with the flat bread he was creating. For a moment it didn't matter that he couldn't get schooling, or that he was already six foot tall at the age of fourteen. For a moment all that mattered was his mother's praise, the affectionate joking of the women of the cathouse, the warmth of Mattie as he wove deftly around bare legs and short skirts, sneaking scraps from his adoring fans._

_Their cook, bouncer and part-time bodyguard was paid well in trade, and where other mothers might have been repulsed, Vera Cobb had always been a firm supporter of sexuality as a way to control a man's temper._

_He never wanted to know where she'd learned that._

_He had been happy._

_Lunchtime was when everything changed. The clients poured in, Unification Day celebrations already underway. Jayne had never understood the holiday, his mother had never talked about it, but the opportunity to relax was welcome._

_That was before the mayor and his cronies had entered._

He reached into his pocket for a cigar, clicking open an ancient zippo and dragging on it. The taste and smell he'd found was burned from his mouth and nostrils, but he didn't need it anymore. Somewhere underground, near the fishing docks, some kind of laboratory.

_Vera had shaken her head firmly. She didn't ply her trade much anymore, not since she had taken over the cathouse at the young age of 27, and she wasn't willing to let any of her younger girls handle the intoxicated crowd. One man had gotten too handsy, another too close, and finally the mayor, stinking of spirits, had pulled the gun._

"_We're here fer fun, whore."_

_Vera had been ready to retort when her eyes had flashed wide._

_Jayne didn't really remember the incident. Only the red. He'd thrown away the clothes, they were too saturated. He'd bolted for the forest, Mattie his only follower as Vera had watched him run. He'd washed off the blood in the stream before going back to clear the bodies._

_The lawmen came later, and Vera covered for her son. Not a whore in the house would speak against him, none of them viewing him with anything but the same love and respect they'd always had. Still, the lawmen had their threats, the organised crime syndicates were just waiting for a chance to take over Vera's, and Jayne had pulled one aside for a private talk._

_His confession had been met with little shock, undisguised disgust in the lawman's eyes._

_He'd asked for one more night at home before his execution, a request that was met with a patronizing sneer._

_That night he'd snuck into his mother's room, pressing a quick kiss on her hand. He'd left with Mattie's sorrowful, reproachful eyes on his neck._

_And never looked back._

He kicked over a nearby can of gasoline and strode to the doorway, turning back one last time.

The cigar didn't cover the smell, the one that wrenched his stomach and cock, and he tossed the embers onto the fuel. Her voice rang in his ears.

"_Ain't nothin' in this world ta make me stop lovin' you baby."_

He moved away and found somewhere to sit. The voice changed now.

"_Copper for a kiss?"_

He watched it burn.

* * *

Simon ran a hand over his face as the crew entered the infirmary. River was covered with a sheet but she had refused to take off the cargo jacket, the heavy material swamping her slim frame. The wounds were impressive but superficial; the only real risk of damage was…

He swallowed.

Inara ran one hand over the chair, surprised when she didn't flinch back from the contact. The girl turned to Mal, reaching out a hand to him, a silent order. He stepped forward and took it, his own hand shaking as she wrapped thin but strong fingers around it.

When she spoke her voice was hoarse but calm. "No accusations."

Mal couldn't speak in the wake of those dark eyes, and it was Zoe who stepped forward, one hand pressed against her stomach. "Little one, what happened?"

River squeezed her eyes shut. "Programming."

Book shook his head. "I don't think-"

She turned those eyes at him, stopping him in his tracks. "Not only his."

Inara stroked River's hair. "_Mei mei_, what are you saying?"

River seemed to be struggling to articulate whatever she was trying to get across. "He…she…violation."

Mal sucked in a breath and the hand holding his squeezed tighter, her tone reproachful. "Stop jumping, no conclusions to be reached. Not a single violation, not one burden to carry. Two souls desecrated and damaged."

She looked out over the crew. "Will need family, both old and new. Will need the chassis, the framework…" She hissed in irritation as her words failed her. "Will need…support."

Wash shook his head. "How can we support him after-"

"Because she won't be able to."

Simon sighed. "I think she's trying to warn us about something else happening, but I can't say what."

Kaylee's hands were shaking but she tried to look strong. "Riv…why won't you be able to support him?"

River looked tired, her long night and injuries obviously catching up with her. "Because…she is…tiger."

Simon shook his head. "That's enough for now, we'll try again tomorrow. She needs to rest, needs to heal."

The crew slowly trickled out, but not before Inara watched River carefully. Something in her eyes, some hidden darkness, reminded her of a few nights ago. Just as quickly as the look had appeared it passed, and Mal's tense form beside her required attention.

Later that night Kaylee tip toed into the infirmary, called there by the quiet buzzer in her room. River was wide awake, and she nodded at where her brother lay awake on the bench. Simon's face, so controlled through everything, was now blank. River didn't have to say it, Kaylee knew what she wanted.

She gently took Simon's hand, pulling him upright. He turned to River, and whatever passed between the two siblings didn't require words, but Kaylee knew an order when she saw one. She led him slowly down the hallway to his room, stripping his shirt and shoes and settling him on the bed.

Finally something glimmered in his eyes, and she lay beside him.

She waited.

Slowly but surely he turned, burying his head in the crook of her neck, and she wrapped her arms around him tightly.

The lay like that for an hour before the tears started.

When he finally slept Kaylee felt her own tears welling up, her heart bleeding for her broken, beaten, brutalized crew.


	13. Chapter 13

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

Ginger Lee watched as Vera prowled the floor. At 45 she was still in her prime, her lean build making her look far younger than she was. As she paced the room her huge friend paced with her, and Ginger would have found it funny if she didn't get the feeling something was bothering her.

Ginger was in her 60s now, and had been more than happy to hand over control of the cathouse to the then 25 year old Vera. Other ladies that age may have crumbled under the pressure of maintain such an establishment…luckily no one had ever accused Vera of being a lady. The two women were old friends, and Ginger could tell something was prickling at the other woman.

Vera stopped. "Play it again."

Ginger acquiesced. Not a planet in the 'verse lacked a copy of this particular vid; it was played in bars around the system, reminding everyone of the day of the Alliance's downfall. Vera had this particular copy under lock and key normally, and Ginger suspected she had been sent the vid-copy by the same someone she sent those funny knitted hats to. It had been almost twenty years since Jayne had disappeared into the night, taking a piece of his mother's heart with him.

Ginger knew why he'd left, understood why he had wanted to protect his mother, protect all the women who had raised him. The day the lawmen came to take away their boy had been a dark one, and he was sorely missed. The energy and violence that ran through him had never extended to a single woman in the house unless it was on her terms, and the arrangement had worked well.

Even as a teenager he'd listened to his Ma's words like gospel.

Ginger watched Vera, the smaller woman's eyes glued to the vid screen. When Jayne had left he'd been 14 with the body of a nearly grown man, standing at six feet, towering over his slim little mother. Between the enormous wolfhound and the strapping teenager Vera used to disappear, but there had never been any doubt as to who was in charge. More than anything though Vera had loved her son with every fibre of her being, and as she watched the woman staring into the screen Ginger's mind drifted back to the night oh so many years ago.

Vera Cobb was born into the uncaring arms of a farming couple. Her mother was weak and her father had a temper, as well as a taste for things no father should develop a taste for. When he'd crept into her room one night she had been waiting with a kitchen knife under the bed, taking out an Achilles tendon and crippling him for life. She'd bolted into the night, never to return.

She was ten.

By the time she found a city she was 13 and wild, having lived in the feral landscape on her own. For three years she had tracked the land, and it was only when she'd grown ill with a snakebite that she had headed for civilization. The poison had been sucked out but no amount of natural remedies seemed to clear her fever. She'd pilfered a basic antidote from the pharmacy and made her way onto the streets.

The first person she'd met that night had been a man with a sweet voice, kind eyes, and rough hands. At the first grip of her young arm Vera's heart had nearly stopped. By the time she recovered enough to drag herself from the darkened alleyway she'd limped, bruised and battered, towards the river to clean herself.

That was where she saw the shadowy figure drop the bag off the bridge, and when she heard a whine she'd dived in without a thought. The sodden, lumpy bundle inside was a tiny ball of fur. She had taken him with her to the pine forest, carefully wrapping him in her only scarf and nursing him back to health.

His lungs never were quite the same after the almost drowning, but you'd never know it.

The wild dogs on Purgatum were a strange bunch. Mixes of breeds from earth-that-was had been turned loose when the planet was first terraformed, escaping into the forests. Now they existed as a mongrel mix of timber wolves, irish wolfhounds, and dingos. The hardy creatures were often compared to the ancient AK-47s: almost impossible to destroy. From the scorching deserts to the canopied forests they roamed, vicious packs of feral creatures. To make matters worse, their mixed genetics allowed them the extended lifespans that humans had begun enjoying, and they were now expected to live for decades.

They grew throughout their lives.

She named him Mattie.

Around the same time she found her canine companion Vera also discovered the result of her violent first encounter. As her stomach grew so did her furry friend, and she knew she had to find some way to look after her strange little family. She knew of one trade to ply, and set out in search of the House of Night.

The sight of the dirty, skinny teenager with her swollen stomach and oversized puppy, standing on the doorstep in the rain, had melted Ginger Lee's heart. Ginger's house was the finest brothel on Purgatum, but customers knew not to mess with the curvy red head who owned it. Despite mob pressure to allow organised syndicates use of the girls, Ginger stayed firm. She ran a tight ship but had the highest retention rates of any brothel in the system, and Ginger's girls not only found a workplace, they found a home. The untrusting little thing took months to warm up to her new living arrangements, but when she realized that no trade would be plied without a girl's consent, Vera found herself relaxing.

As the baby grew Ginger went about teaching the girl basic business and skills other than her survival expertise. Vera's quick mind allowed her to learn fast, and Ginger didn't even mind the temper. Though she'd initially balked at the idea of having a large dog in the house, and one that was still only a puppy, the night a burglar had been found cowering under a growling Mattie had convinced Ginger to let him do as he pleased. Vera's quit wit and practical sense impressed Ginger, and the girl flourished.

The birth of her son at 13 was a horrific process.

It had nearly killed her, even with Ginger's knowledge of such things, but the girl was strong, and as soon as her bleeding body allowed her to wake up she had demanded to hold him. The flashing blue eyes, olive skin and black hair were his mother's.

The strong jaw and massive frame he would develop into had come from elsewhere.

It had taken an entire year for the girl to recover fully.

Her healing was slow, and Ginger refused customers for such a young girl. When Vera started gaining her strength she would take the child and her dog out to the woods for days at a time, always coming back a little stronger, a little more ready. When she had become strong enough she demanded to start earning her keep. Despite her initial fears she quickly became known as the finest, and most temperamental, whore in the house. Ginger had never demanded her participation, having some inkling as to her history, but the girl was forged with steel and determination. Her body matured quickly, although the lean frame could never put on more than wiry muscle.

At 14 she could easily pass for 16, and despite Ginger's hatred of allowing someone so young to be involved in the business, the girl refused to stay for free. For some reason it was the rougher clients in which the girl specialized, and when Ginger had questioned her she had looked on with ancient eyes. "Those boys're more risk ta the girls out there than they ever could be ta me."

That night Ginger realized Vera was taking on the roughest clients in town to prevent them finding their violent encounter elsewhere. It was also the night Ginger realized that Vera, no matter how naked, was never without a weapon of some kind.

When the Phaedre epidemic had overtaken Purgatum Vera had been a mess. The overly clean scientists had taken her son, telling her the boy needed evaluation, and her two year old baby had howled when removed from his mother's arms. Ginger's heart had broken when the virus started killing off the youngest inhabitants of Purgatum, but Vera's eyes had grown hard, and when she'd left one night Ginger knew not to stop her.

She returned in the morning with baby Jayne.

Ginger was snapped out of her reverie when Vera hissed. She'd paused the tape, carefully running a finger through the hologram.

She didn't look as she spoke, one hand unconsciously stroking Mattie's head for reassurance. "That's her."

Ginger shook her head. The poor woman who had starred in the Miranda broadwave was frozen in the middle of the sitting room. "What do you mean?"

Blue eyes flashed. "She's the scientist."

Ginger rolled her eyes. "Well, I know that."

Vera shook her head. "No, not…she's the one I took Jayne offa."

Ginger's mouth dropped at the same time her teacup did. "What?"

Vera turned to her, looking down carefully as Mattie's hackles rose, a growl echoing through the room.

"I last saw her the day I took Jayne back…"

* * *

Badger was pacing his office as Mal, Simon and Book waited. He would occasionally stop and turn, as if to speak, but his voice would die in his throat before the words could form. Finally he planted his hands on his desk, pulling out a bottle of whisky and taking a direct drought.

He looked at Mal. "So wot yer tellin' me…."

Mal sighed. "I'm tellin' ya how it looks, I'm tellin' ya what she says."

Badger shook his head. "I seen the way Cobb looks at ya Reader an' I…" He ran a hand over his face.

"I don' believe it."

Simon stepped forward. "We need information. I've been finding old data files about something called The Program, and we need to find Jayne. Soon."

Book was silent as he watched the doctor. He was calm, professional, firm. A clear indication that he was holding on to his emotions so tightly he was liable to snap at any moment. Book had to give him credit for his trust in his sister, for his innate desire to heal. Without it Jayne would have been long dead.

If he was still alive at all.

Mal nodded at Simon. "Doc's right; whatever the girl is tryin' ta hint at us involves Jayne somehow, an' I conjure he ain't doin' so well. We've been lookin' fer two weeks now; we're runnin' out o' options."

Badger took another swig before nodding. "I'll keep an eye out, but yer man ain't a regular merc; 'e's a hunter. If 'e don' wanna be found, I don' got no way ta find 'im."

Book nodded. "We understand, but your men know Persephone like no one else. We've been watching the waves but if he jumps onto a boat or gets in trouble we won't know how to reach him."

Badger sighed. "I'll do me bes', but I ain't makin' no promises." He went quiet, and Simon saw the question in his eyes before he could ask it.

He ran a hand over his face. "She's healing but…" Badger swallowed heavily as the doctor continued. "But she's starting to revert back to how she was before…she's withdrawing. Sometimes she seems lucid and other times…"

The room was very quiet for a moment. Badger covered his face with his hands. He'd known Cobb for years now, and what seemed to have happened…he knew the man was violent but he never thought he had this in him. The crew seemed to be fighting hard not to act on instinct, and if that wasn't a sign of their commitment to one another since Miranda than he didn't know what was.

Still, the doctor was strung out tighter than a bow, the shepherd seemed to be fighting battles in his own mind, and the Captain? Badger knew Mal was the overprotective kind when it came to his crew, so maybe it shouldn't have been a surprise for him to be so torn…

Badger nodded once. "_Ni tama de tianxia suoyou de ren duo gaisi_, you lot jus' can' seem ta catch a break."

Mal chuckled, a dark, humourless sound. "You got that right."

Book looked out of the dusty window into the alleyway. He didn't know where their wayward crewmember was hiding, but as he thought back to Jayne's eyes the last time they'd seen him…

He shook himself.

Wherever their boy was he was likely to be getting into a world of trouble.

* * *

Jayne flicked his tongue out, the air tasting dry and far too clean. It had taken him two weeks to find this place, two weeks to use every skill he'd ever been taught to get this information. Two weeks and more than a few ears.

He moved slowly, silently. The entrance hadn't been guarded so much as it had been invisible. He'd scoured the docks for days before finally sighting the barest depression in the dirt. Carefully guarded and well concealed, the door's passcode had been difficult to disarm, especially without Kaylee.

He swallowed, unwilling to think about his sweet mechanic and her horrified eyes.

The tang of medication and decay filled his nostrils, and he pressed against the wall as he crept towards the door at the end of the hallway. He saw someone moving under the door, but wasn't particularly concerned. People guarding their hideouts as well as these ones had tended not to think anyone would ever find them.

He grinned.

Perfect.

The door was well oiled, and the man inside didn't hear him. His eyes flicked over the room. The sterile walls were covered in narrow cages of reinforced glass. Inside was evidence of struggle, scratches along the wall, bloodstains on the glass. He knew those stains, he'd caused enough of them; a head smashed into the barrier.

The far end held a cortex monitor and a full medical setup, along with some strewn about writing pads. The man was lean, he looked nearly malnourished, and Jayne spotted a tag around his ankle, some kind of shackling device. He'd seen them on Core worlds before; they were used to keep prisoners in line, issuing a debilitating shock when triggered.

No bulges in the grey slacks or white shirt, no indication of a concealed weapon. There were no windows, and he'd just come through the only entrance. He narrowed his eyes.

Good.

He let his boot scuff the floor.

The man turned with a gasp, face pale with shock and his black eyes standing out. There was an exhaustion in those eyes that Jayne thought he recognised, but he had no time for sympathy. As the man put his hands up Jayne gave him a wolfish smile and hefted the gun at him.

"Hear tell you like ta keep wild things down here."

The man's voice shook. "Y-y-yes…I'm…y-y-you're…"

Jayne raised an eyebrow, keeping the pistol locked between the man's eyes. "Yeah, who am I? Ya recognise me?"

The man glanced quickly to the cages, and Jayne sneered. "Ain't gonna get me in there, not without a fight, an' I reckon I can take ya."

The man's face suddenly lost its fear, leaving some kind of acceptance in its wake.

"Do it."

Jayne narrowed his eyes. "Huh?"

The man gave a shuddering breath. "Just…just do it. Get it done with, kill me."

Jayne stared at him for a long minute. "I'm here fer answers."

The man shook his head. "I have none to give you. Please…just…please…"

Jayne was usually alright with begging but something about this wasn't sitting right. "I kill ya an' nobody tells me wha-"

The man's eyes suddenly widened and he darted forward. He may have stood a chance months ago, but today Jayne's whole body hummed with energy, and he whipped out an arm to knock the man onto his back.

"Uh uh, nuthin' like that, ain't gettin' provoked inta-"

"Did you enjoy it?"

Jayne blinked. The man's eyes narrowed and his voice became a sneer.

"Can't resist your instincts, not with Ares in your system. Did you enjoy it? Did you taste her?"

Jayne began to shake as the man leaned up, eyes flashing with desperation but his words ugly as sin.

"Did she struggle? Is she the one who left those scratches?"

Jayne's felt the red begin to cloud his vision, felt his finger tighten on the trigger. He fought for control, fought for some way to combat those vile words.

"I bet she howled. Big man like you, and she's so tiny."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, biting the inside of his cheek. The words sliced into his fragile self-control over and over again.

Because they were true.

"Did she scream?"

The sound of the pistol echoed through the laboratory, and Jayne's hand still shook as he looked down at the mess he'd created. The man's chest was blown open, but his eyes were filled with gratitude as he looked up at Jayne.

"Thank you…"

His head dropped back.

Jayne slowly sank down the wall. Two weeks of searching and he'd blasted his last resource.

"_Never waste a thin' baby, always remember that ya never know what you'll need."_

"_She understands. She doesn't comprehend."_

He clutched at his temples as his blood began to sing in his ears, beginning for the same release he'd given it weeks ago, embers sparked to a flame by the kill and begging for more.

For her.

The only sound in the lab was his ragged breathing as he struggled to retain control.


	14. Chapter 14

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **If I'm late getting back to your reviews I'm really sorry; my bloody email is being shonky. Thank you so much for taking the time to leave your thoughts :)

* * *

It took him an hour to get a grip of himself and stand up next to the body on the floor. He didn't glance at the corpse, knowing that thinking about it would just bring about another round of soul crushing defeat.

He moved over to the table that held the medical journals, picking one up and glancing over the jargon. He could barely make sense of it, but he caught a familiar word. The Maidenhead.

His eyes closed as he thought about the last day he'd felt in control of himself.

"_My muscular buttocks it's forty."_

_Mingo was indifferent. "It is."_

_They started in on their lecturing about how Mal runs his boat, and as much as Jayne might have sometimes agreed with them their posturing was in no way helping his temper. He should have been feeling relieved that the two fugees were kicking themselves off, but if Fanty and Mingo didn't pay them properly his cut went down._

_He hated it when his cut went down._

_A whispered voice unheard by the rest of the bars inhabitants._

"_Miranda."_

_Boot to the face, tables breaking, screaming. The sounds curled at the edge of his hearing and he perked up as Mal moved the palm branch aside. "Hey, a tussle."_

_Mal sounded less amused. "Jayne…"_

_He finally saw what the Captain is talking about. The girl had snapped, gone completely bonkers, and as she flipped through the room he stared. Legs whipping out to send a bottle flying from the bar to a patron's head. She leapt for the pillar, spinning onto the stairs where she started to wreak havoc on the upper deck._

_He felt a cool professional interest in the way she was tearing the bar apart, but a much larger part of him was fuming. Ruttin' girl, he'd known she'd be trouble, now she was fouling up their already shaky deal with Fanty and Mingo._

_Mingo gripped the loot to his chest as his twin looked to Mal. "Do you know that girl?"_

_Mal didn't look away from River as he responded. "I really don't."_

_Mal slapped his shoulder and indicated his angle. He leapt up, ready to take out his formidable temper on the girl who has just let their clients bolt from the bar with more than their fair share of the loot. When she handsprung down the stairs he was waiting for her, catching an injured patron and throwing him aside. _

_Their eyes locked._

_His world changed._

_The smoke, alcohol and sweat in the air were wiped out as the smell hit him. Darkly addictive, coating his nose and throat, settling into his stomach and burning out into every part of him. It didn't build gradually like slow burning embers. It burst into flames, and suddenly his eyes had shifted, clouded over as his body started humming with the irrepressible, intoxicating energy that he hadn't felt since he was a teenager back on Purgatum. Suddenly it isn't just a crazy girl he was looking at, it wasn't a potential threat his Captain has asked him to neutralize._

_Suddenly something strange and foreign was coursing through his blood. She kipped a leg behind her to knockout a mark she had no way of knowing was there, but he didn't think about her move. All he thought about was the lean form, the pale skin, the huge brown eyes staring him down and issuing a challenge._

_It was a body that his own demanded to be sheathed inside, a mouth his hands itch to tear screams from, and it was the sole purpose of his entire existence to take that body and mate with it._

_A sharp elbow to the head of a roadblock, he no longer saw other humans but mere obstacles on his path to the girl. She was distracted by another opponent, and he made his move, wrapping his arms around her from behind._

_He felt her body tense into an attack position and some part of his brain suggested the use of trickery to get her to calm, even momentarily, so he could rip the dress from her body and plunge inside her._

"_Gorramit girl, it's me."_

_The words sounded like they were coming from very far away, his remaining neurons obliterated in the wake of that smell and the feel of her anchored against him. He got ready to move a hand down to tear off the dress when she suddenly made her own move._

_The hand that gripped him was small but far too strong. The sensation of having his sack squeezed and twisted while his ji ba was standing to attention made his eyes cross, too painful and horrifically arousing._

_She landed an elbow to his nose, and as his head kipped back she bent to pick up a platter. He was fast, but she was faster, and she slammed it into his stomach and face, knocking him unconscious._

"_No, now that she's a…killer woman we oughta be bringin' her tea and dumplings."_

_Tell them to get off, make them leave, please. He stared as Mal couldn't answer why he'd brought her back on, furious that his blood was still humming. _

_Simon's heart broke in front of them as he requested to see her._

_Jayne forced the bravado. "She goes wooly again we're gonna have ta put a bullet to her."_

_After they'd collected Inara he had returned to himself, self-control still close to snapping as he fought with Mal. He was relieved he had the mental capacity to wring out those ugly words about the war, but the crew placed too much trust in him. He went for a drink, but rather than douse the flames it merely spurred them on._

_The girl was locked up in the other room._

_His body howled._

_Another attempt to trick and manipulate. "No trouble little crazy person…we're goin' fer a niiice shuttle ride."_

_Hours later, as he held a cold pack to his face where she'd hit him with peaches, he reflected that he'd never been so grateful to be knocked out twice in one day._

_Mal would never know it from looking at him, but Jayne was thanking his lucky stars for the Captain's willingness to verbally spar with him. It grounded him, knowing that he could be shot at any moment. The girl shot him a look across the bridge as the thought crossed his mind, and there was something dark and all too familiar in her eyes, something that almost brought him to his knees._

_His mouth watered and she knew it._

**Subject has reacted to Ares stimulation with positive results. Bonding has presented as increased aggression, adrenaline reactors are significantly above average. Suggest continued higher doses.**

He growled as he threw down the journal. He had no idea what it meant. He grabbed another one. This one was dated only a few weeks back.

**Breeders of the MA class presenting with increased violent tendencies and structure. Adrenal response is off the charts, cardiac arrest remains a concern although indicators fail to suggest high risk due to physical adjustment to Ares virus. Academy remnants have reached next stage of development, but are still failing to survive mating, suggested search for last candidate in order to initialize next stage of The Program.**

Initialize…adrenaline…he hissed in anger.

**MA deceased. Cause of death, MA. Vid recordings suggest dominant MA completed task. Suggested capture and containment in original laboratory.**

He slammed the journal onto the table. There was no way he could understand this; the letters his Ma sent him were the most challenging thing he could tackle outside of a gun magazine. His Ma had…

He clenched his eyes shut as the memory swamped him

"_Baby, there's more ta learnin' than pages in a book."_

_His nine year old self smiled wryly. "But you can read, Ma."_

_She smiled. "Yeah baby, but I got patience you ain't; this kinda learnin' takes a control ya ain't got right now. Soon as ya do, we'll get ya more books than ya ever did see."_

_From his position on the floor he leaned against Mattie, the huge dog whuffing gently and licking his ear before returning to his bone._

"_Mattie's been eatin' Carsson's chickens again Ma."_

_Vera rolled her eyes as Mattie shot her a guilty look. He butted at Jayne reproachfully, but it was half hearted at best, and Vera couldn't help the smile as her two boys began a mock wrestle. After Mattie had gently but firmly pinned him with one foot Jayne held out a book to her._

"_Read it ta me again?"_

_She nodded, pausing for a moment. "Baby, always remember that ya can do whatever ya set yer mind to, jus' ain't always gonna be easy."_

_He nodded as she began to speak._

He saw an empty box in the corner and whipped it up, stuffing as many journals as possible into it. He might not know what these things meant, but he knew someone who did.

As long as he didn't get shot first.

He moved through the hidden entrance out onto the street, striding a few blocks before stopping. When he turned his target was there, leaning inconspicuously against the wall and chewing an apple. The ripped pants and worn gloves might have indicated a street bum.

Jayne knew better.

He leaned against the wall beside the stranger.

"Tell 'em I'll be at the Langshore Inn. Five hours."

The man didn't turn, looking straight ahead. "Don't know what yet talkin' 'bout sir."

Jayne pushed up from the wall, not looking behind him as he left. "Jus' tell yer boss. Only Captain an' the Doc, _dong ma_."

He didn't wait for an answer as he strode out of the alleyway.

Badger's man waited half an hour so he was sure the terrifying man was gone.


	15. Chapter 15

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

Mal stared at the screen as Badger's tired face appeared. The middleman didn't waste time with pleasantries.

"Got a message from yer man. Longshore Inn, 'bout four hours from now."

Mal nodded. "How'd he look?"

Badger ran a hand over his face and sighed. "Dyson said 'e looked…scary."

Mal rolled his eyes. "Man's six four an' weighs 'bout as much as you an' me together."

Badger shook his head. "No…Dyson said…said 'e looked beyond that…said 'e looked haunted."

Mal nodded. "Fine. Thanks fer the warnin'."

Badger didn't sign off immediately. "Said 'e only wanted you an' the doc, said not ta bring no one else."

A feather light footstep sounded behind him and Mal didn't have to turn around. "Yeah, well I ain't big on takin' orders from my merc."

Badger looked a River's still healing frame, eyes not leaving hers as he spoke to Mal. "Don' know iff 'e's your merc no more Mal…"

Mal gestured for River without turning. "Guess we'll have ta wait an' see."

At Badger's unspoke question Mal nodded. "We'll keep ya posted."

When the screen flicked to black he finally turned to where River was standing at his side. She had healed well, the bruises were fading, but there was something wrong. Over the last two weeks she'd seemed more like the River of months ago, rare moments of fragile lucidity swept away by word webs that made no sense.

He ran a hand down her hair, trying not to feel pain when she flinched away from him. His beautiful girl was going through something, he shouldn't be surprised that she didn't want male contact. It still stung when she moved away from afffectionate touches she had once leaned into, it stung that when she looked at him it wasn't with love and happiness.

The eyes were normally filled with darkness bordering on rage.

Simon had refused to sedate her unless she requested it, and in her moments of lucidity she would draw. Those drawings…charcoal and plain paper, sketching the same image again and again. The familiar face was drawn and tired, the eyes aflame with intense focus, violent need.

Whenever someone asked her about them she would withdraw, her attempts to speak becoming jumbled as if a translator was taking her words and churning them like butter. Those were the times that the crew felt the weight of this problem the most; Kaylee's eyes would fill with tears at River's frustration, Simon desperately writing down anything and everything she said in case something one day made sense. The bonds forged in Miranda's fire were being tested, people were withdrawing in the wake of the horrific events that Jayne seemed to have instigated. River had been close to tears one night over dinner, having picked up on a stray thought from Wash.

"No, no, cease and desist! Accusations faulty, must remember parameters for appropriate assumptions!"

Wash's face had turned red and he'd looked ready to crumble when River broke down, horrified that something he'd thought had led to it. As Simon had ushered her away she'd begun to weep, and Wash had stood suddenly, heading for the bridge.

When Zoe had found him there she'd run one hand over his head. Their child was due in two months, they'd been so close to being able to spend some time in the Black with their extended family, soon to be increased. Now he was struggling with his own stress, impending fatherhood, and the terrifying fear that Jayne may have done something unspeakable that a damaged girl couldn't comprehend.

Mal had watched silently as Zoe looked down at her husband. "We can't think it, not yet."

Wash exhaled shakily. "I don't want to, you know I don't. I just…I hate that I think it but…"

Zoe nodded, picking up one of his hands and pressing it to her stomach. "This is ours, this is where our hearts are. And to think…"

At her next words Mal suddenly knew that Zoe was aware of his presence.

"…all those years ago I said you bothered me."

If Wash remembered Jayne's strange words on the bridge a few weeks ago he didn't say anything. Pressing both hands over his child's sleeping home he looked up at Zoe, who's face showed only understanding.

"He couldn't have…"

Zoe nodded. "I ain't so sure he knows that."

Mal hated himself in that moment, because he understood Wash entirely. Whenever he thought about Jayne his mind couldn't help throwing up the image of River, bloodied and beaten, and Simon's face as he confirmed their worst nightmares. The rage inside him was bordering on psychotic, tempered only by Simon's refusal to assign blame until he was sure.

Mal was forcing himself to trust the doctor, but it was killing him.

His crew was in shambles, one member missing and now Jayne was calling for a meeting that Mal had no idea what to expect from.

He drew his hand back from River's hair. "Tross, go find yer brother, I need ta talk ta him."

She nodded, not taking her eyes off the barren docks of Persephone as she spoke. "Will need his ladies."

Mal didn't respond, watching as his frail Reader seemed to drift slowly into another reality.

She looked up at him with clouded eyes. "Things are going to get much, much worse."

He resisted the urge to press a kiss to her forehead. "I know darlin'. I know."

* * *

Jayne slammed back the whisky, relieved that he could still feel the burn. The pilfered black tank was filthy, but he knew if he stopped, even for a moment, he was going to lose the tenuous control he'd been fighting for.

He knew when they entered the bar, knew they were probably surprised at his choice of establishment. The Longshore Inn was the only bar on Persephone that didn't have either its own working girls or a connection to a nearby cathouse. The elderly patrons were evidence of its niche market. He couldn't stand to be around sex at the moment, not when his mind kept throwing up the warring images of that vile night and his own upbringing.

He'd chosen an isolated table at the back of the bar, knowing that the rear exit was unguarded. He couldn't risk being trapped here, knew he had to speak quickly before the ended him, knew he needed to tell them his plan.

They didn't sit, and he didn't ask them to. He couldn't look up, couldn't meet their eyes, so he simply pushed the box across the table.

"Can't read 'em, might be useful. Need information."

He finally looked up. Simon's eyes were a mix of compassion and fury, neither of which he found particularly settling. Mal's were blank, and he knew that wasn't a good sign; the Captain was fighting his every instinct.

Jayne stood. "Ain't gonna be here long."

His Captain seemed to know that he wasn't talking about his presence in the bar. Mal's hand was on his gun but it didn't unlatch the holster. "You don't think you've got some debts ta answer fer?"

Jayne nodded. "Ain't denyin' it, but there's more ta do first."

He looked at Simon, barely able to meet the face of River's brother, barely able to look into those same brown eyes. "Need ta know what's in them files."

Simon nodded. "W-…and then?"

Jayne scowled. "Then I end it. Ya saw that mark on the thing's arm, ya know somethin's goin' on. If there's more o' them the girl's..."

He trailed off, unable to note the danger she was in without knowing that he was the main reason.

Mal nodded. "Ain't no arguments there, question is what's yer plan?"

Jayne shrugged. "Find 'em. Kill 'em. Then don't see the next sunrise."

Mal hissed. "Jus' like that? River thinks-"

"Don't wanna hear it."

Mal's face darkened. "You don't think ya owe that girl a chance ta-"

Jayne shook his head. "I owe her blood, an' it ain't jus' mine."

Simon opened his mouth and Jayne shook his head sharply. "_Bi zui, _this is what's happenin'. Ya saw the girl, ya know what I did."

Mal looked at him thoughtfully. "We gotta find safe harbour, gotta get Zoe an' the crew offa Persephone before any more o' those things find us."

Jayne scratched his chin. "Head fer Purgatum."

Simon's eyes narrowed. "That's a nothing planet on the Outer Rim."

Jayne nodded. "M'homeworld. Find my Ma, she'll look after ya, give ya somewhere ta breathe."

Mal eyed him carefully. "You really don't think yer comin' back from this do ya?"

Jayne shook his head and Mal nodded. "Fine, we can help."

Jayne couldn't help the dark chuckle. "I ain't got no need fer yer help, an' I ain't…" He sucked in a breathe, finally looking at Mal properly. He saw the Captain thrown off his stride when he finally met his eyes, and knew that every moment of pain, every second of anguish, all the crackling energy and violence still didn't cancel out the arousal.

"I can't…I can't be near 'er Mal."

Mal gritted his teeth. "After all this yer still wantin'-"

"Yes."

The fury in Mal's eyes felt like fire and Jayne saw his former Captain forced to grip tighter on his control. He nodded once.

"Fine, have yer vendetta. But ya owe that girl, yer gonna hear her out." Jayne opened his mouth to argue but Mal's voice cut over him. "When yer done, when ya find what yer lookin' fer, ya head ta Purgatum. Ya hear what she has ta say."

Mal leaned in close. "An' then I'll pull the trigger myself."

Jayne stared. He knew he was strong enough to take himself out of the picture, but he owed the girl more than he could possibly give; if she had words, cries, screams to throw at him, he owed her that. And he knew he couldn't fight the urges if he was near her. Mal was offering him an out, a way to pay back every debt and then be disposed of before he could incur any more.

He nodded. "Thank you."

The Captain tossed a duffel bag on the table, and Jayne didn't have to ask what was inside. Mal tried to channel Zoe's practical influence. "How're we gonna contact ya iffen these files tell us anythin'?"

Jayne shrugged. "I'll wave ya somehow."

Mal wanted to offer him something; credits, weapons, a friend…all offers died in his throat in the wake of the hollow eyes.

Simon struggled. "Jayne, I know what you think happened but-"

Jayne felt every hair on his neck stand to attention as the smell filled the bar. He hissed furiously, glaring at Mal and Simon.

"I said come alone!"

"We did."

Mal turned in confusion, his eyes widening as he caught sight of River standing only a few meters from him. Jayne was blasted with an onslaught of guilt and shame at the sight of those fading bruises, but that wasn't the worst of his problems.

The smell had his body tensing for attack, the sight of those brown eyes enough to set his skin on fire and his teeth on edge.

Her eyes pleaded with him, her voice shaky. "Leash, please! Must fight must-"

One hand slid to her stomach and her head dropped suddenly, a gasp echoing from her mouth. Her body began to shake.

_Protection drives initiating. Commence Program protocol alpha._

His animal instincts were in hyperdrive; crowded bar, difficult to manoeuver, easy to claim, push her onto the nearest table and take what's yours, any obstacles easily taken out, elbow to doc's temple, blast to Mal's chest, bar patrons terrified and running, left in peace to take her to pieces.

Simon stepped towards River when he saw every muscle in her body tighten, but he froze when her head drew back up. The momentary lucidity was gone, and in its wake was a terrifying blankness that he hadn't seen since watching the Maidenhead footage.

This wasn't his sister preparing to use her training.

This was the Academy's finest weapon, strung taught and ready to fire.

_Combat contraindicated based on current condition and high risk of loss, use of verbal tactics suggested. Weakness detected, prepare for exploitation._

Her words hissed out stronger and lower than before. "Can't resist fragile body bent and broken, wants to rip more screams from the virgin throat, wants to violate again."

The seared him, slicing into him again and again and echoing around his skull. Jayne flinched, his burning lust and icy guilt warring, her words cutting him to the quick. Mal's hand snapped out and clicked twice as he saw his merc preparing to attack, saw the darkness begin to take over as his defences weakened.

"Jayne, run."

The words cut the tiniest path of control into his psyche and he latched at it, aware he may never have another chance. Some tiny node of survival grabbed the familiarity of an outside order, and Jayne grabbed the duffel bag before he bolted from the bar.

His feet pounded as he sprinted through the pouring rain, knowing only that he had to get as far away from the bar as possible. When the adrenaline and water finally wiped the last of that scent from his nose he had been running for hours, and finally collapsed to his knees, shaking. The industrial sector was silent except for his agonised howling, bile rising in his throat as his psyche attempted to process the crime he had committed, the words she had thrown.

When he could finally stand it felt as it some part of him had finally shut down, leaving behind only clarity. He strode away into the night, unaware that he left behind a frightened girl and part of his soul.


	16. Chapter 16

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

Simon's eyes had filled with tears when he used the safety phrase, Mal's heart breaking as he carried her out of the bar. The doctor struggled with the heavy box of journals but didn't say a word as they headed back to the ship. Mal snapped out an order to Zoe for take-off and coordinates as he laid River down in the infirmary.

Simon put the box down and hurried to her side. He checked her vitals and drew some blood, not looking at the tense crew crowded in the doorway. They were silent as he worked, even Kaylee unable to find a voice in all the anxious energy. The doctor's frantic movements seemed to indicate he knew what he was looking for, and Mal couldn't help but shake at the idea of something new and unknown emerging in this pit of hell.

Simon watched as the monitor threw up a data graph, and it was Zoe whose eyes widened as she studied it. It had been six months ago that she'd last seen that graph, and her hand went to her stomach involuntarily.

Simon seemed close to breaking, not even able to pull on his ear as he stared. Finally Book's low voice broke the silence.

"What is it?"

Simon turned to his crew and Mal swore those eyes could not have looked more exhausted if he'd just outrun Reavers.

"I think…I think this is even worse than we knew."

Mal's eyes closed as River's words on the bridge came back to him, Inara's hand pressing into his back, keeping him grounded. When he opened his eyes he looked at their Reader, laid out on the infirmary bed for the second time in as many weeks.

The damage may not have been as evident as it was last time, but perhaps the internal hurt was far worse.

* * *

His first year on a ship he'd turned 15. Captain Don Greer had been a rough man who enjoyed a fight, and had quickly turned the near silent boy onto the joys of sparring. His energy began to find direction as he brawled and fought, and his knowledge of weaponry made him useful at least.

Captain Greer was no fool; the boy's tracking skills made him a valuable asset, and he was always ready for a spot of violence. Despite his young age he'd been permitted on jobs to earn his keep, given no quarter when things went wrong. Where his mother's firm but supportive words had once controlled him, now it was pain that allowed him to retain his focus. Nothing set a young boy straight like the lash of a whip, and the last remnants of his innocence were burned up on jobs.

He loved it.

He relished the kill, found solace in the hunger for violence, loved being part of something that encouraged his energy.

Slowly he felt it change from an irrepressible response to something more manageable, like a large resource of activity to draw on of his own accord. He began to feel the cool grip of control his mother had always been encouraging him towards, drawing on everything she had given him, leashing his initial responses and settling for lesser ones where necessary.

He'd switched boats when Captain Greer had been shot dead on a mission, disappearing into the night.

His next ship had been a smaller vessel whose inhabitants had less scruples. They'd watched him with narrow eyes, their near silent man on jobs, confining himself to his bunk or a local cathouse whenever he got the chance. He couldn't spar with them; the risk was too high that one would pull a knife.

He'd turned 18 alone in his room, and left a week later. Several years of switching ships and choosing who his lack lustre loyalty was placed on were only broken up by the occasional correspondence from his Ma.

She didn't trust the mail system any more than he did; her letters were sparse, the only real warmth coming from the occasional gifts she sent him. He could almost see her broken heart in every word, and he wished more than anything he could go home, could see her once last again.

He'd checked Purgatum's warrant cortex one day, and when his own face had glared out from the screen attached to a hefty bounty he'd known he couldn't go back. He'd been forced to shut the whole system down so no one on his latest ship would find the warrant; he couldn't risk it.

He hadn't planned to be on Serenity more than a few months, but something had kept him there. The conditions were good, the pay was better, but those weren't the only reasons. Mal's gruff leadership tended to rub him the wrong way, but simultaneously inspired him to want to match the loyalty the Captain expected. After Ariel he'd realised the calibre of man he was dealing with, and although no one would ever accuse him of being a model employee, the message stuck.

He was valued, at least a little bit.

He had slowly let himself do what he'd never done before; he'd gotten to know the crew.

In a dank apartment on Persephone's east side Jayne sat on the edge of a filthy bed. He'd snuck in the window, checking no one was occupying the room before entering silently. The place stank in a way that only a room rented by the hour could, but it was dry and warm. He drew the duffel bag from his shoulder, unzipping it and rifling through the contents.

Charlene, his carbine, along with Myra, his sawn off. Several smaller hand guns, a few throwing knives, his ill-gotten tazer, and enough ammunition to last him a while. He knew just looking at it that Mal had dipped into his own stores, and he felt a pang of agony at the generous act. In the very bottom of the bag was Vera, along with her case. Several pairs of cargos, socks, t-shirts.

Not his cargo jacket.

He didn't miss it; the new owner deserved it more.

Down the bottom was a box that had been hidden under his bed. As he drew it out he wondered if it was Mal who had slipped this in or someone else. He knew Mal hadn't looked inside, knew the Captain would have commented on the contents, and that answered his question about whether he'd known it was there.

He cracked the lid. A heavy silver chain he immediately locked around his neck. Several ancient captures; his Ma and Mattie, the girl's from The House of Night, an old photo of him grinning over a pile of caught fish while Mattie licked his lips in the background. A single shot of the crew that Kaylee had forced them to take only a month before Miranda. He looked grouchy as all hell.

A calloused finger tried to skim across a pale face in the capture but he leashed himself and kept looking through the box. A few credits.

And an ancient t-shirt ripped down the front.

He'd never known why he kept it, the slash from the knife had made it useless, and he'd never washed or repaired it.

He didn't think about it as he put it back in the box. No need to dwell.

There was a tiny slip of paper, written in elegant script interspersed with strange marks, as if the writer hadn't been able to stop the shaking of their hands.

_Volenti non fit injuria_

The faintest whiff of scent rose from the parchment, and he hissed as his blood began to hum. He tore the parchment to shreds, moving to the dirty sink and lighting the paper with his zippo. He watched as the paper turned to ashes, relieved when the burning smoke overtook the smell of her.

He didn't need foreign language training, and he definitely didn't need another reminder.

He lay back on the bed as the rain pelted down the grimy window of his filthy room.

He wanted to sleep more than anything but knew he couldn't.

The screaming was too loud.


	17. Chapter 17

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

"_You want me."_

_He stared at the goddess giving him orders like she owned the place._

"_You want me on your ship."_

_He'd been briefly knocked off his stride in the wake of those black eyes, but he'd held his ground proudly._

_That had been the day he knew he wanted her._

_Months later the fear in the shuttle had been palpable as their eyes locked. "Mal, you don't have to die alone."_

_Something had flared in his chest._

_That had been the day he knew he needed her._

"_Nothing here is what it seems. He isn't the plucky hero, the Alliance isn't some evil empire, this is not the grand arena."_

"_And that's not incense."_

_Mal had always known he felt strangely about Inara. _

_That had been the moment he realized he loved her._

Inara wrapped the shawl tighter around her shoulders though her anger was warming her nicely. Mal's eyes were dark and his mouth set, a sure sign of an impending argument, and she was more than happy to oblige.

There was a note of desperation breaking through the usual composure of her voice. "You let him go? He thinks he's raped River and you let him go?"

Mal grit his teeth. "We don't know he ain't right, not really. Ain't your call, you know it, an' ya didn't see what I saw."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh yes? Did you see a man close to breaking point? Someone who needs support rather than a bullet in his head?"

He took a fast step forward, growling into her face. "I saw him look at her like a horse steak he wanted ta take a bite out'a, I saw a man wantin' ta repeat whatever sin he thinks he committed. Guilt an' shame aside I reckon I made the right call."

He turned, moving across the room to get some air.

Inara shook her head. "You're wrong Mal, you know this is wrong. You…you cannot do as he requests!"

He spun, glaring at her. "You wanna risk that? What happens next time? Iffen he can't control it what do ya think he'll do ta her? You want that on your shoulders? I'm doin' him the only _gorram _favour I can, an' I'm gettin' my crew ta safety so that baby in Zoe's stomach don't come inta this world without parents, _dong ma_?"

Inara hated this, hated the fire in their voices, hated the venom in their words. But she could not sit by and allow this to go on, she couldn't watch as this happened.

"Whatever the Alliance did to River, Simon thinks Jayne did not get off without his own violation. If her brother can see it why can't you?"

Mal's eyes were exhausted. "Because he don't want me to. Ya didn't see it 'Nara, didn't see his eyes." He took a shaky breath. "He didn't wanna set foot on this boat fer fear o' hurtin' her again, an' from the way he reacted at the Longshore I know he was right."

Inara held her ground. "He listened to you, you said he did. He doesn't want to hurt her. He told us to seek safety, he left when you ordered him to. Doesn't that show you some remnants of the man he is?"

Mal shook his head. "Showed me that his survival instinct is just as strong as ever. If he don't think he's got the control then why should I? 'Nara, I ain't gonna argue. We touch down on Purgatum, get our wits about us, an' see what we can find. We ain't no good ta him right now, an' he knows it."

She felt tears prick her eyes. "So you're just going to let him embark on this vendetta? He could be killed."

Mal moved to the doorway. "I'm lettin' him make his amends, lettin' him call in any debts he finds left about. An' then I'ma let him die."

As he left Inara felt her heart break and if she listened very, very carefully, she thought she heard Mal's breaking too.

* * *

Wash slipped into the infirmary where Simon was pouring over the medical journals Jayne had provided. The young doctor looked exhausted, and Wash held out the beer. Simon nodded in thanks, not speaking in case he woke River from her position on the couch.

Wash watched her for a moment before breaking the silence. "How long?"

He knew from Simon's look it was a stupid question; it was exactly as long ago as her 18th birthday, exactly as long as when that night had destroyed everyone's lives.

He sighed. "Me and Zo'…we wanted this so bad. When you gave us those results…"

_He'd seen Zoe cry three times in the entire time he'd known her._

_The first was on their wedding day, when tears had pricked her eyes as Mal had grudgingly pronounced them husband and wife. The second had been the day after the massacre on Mr Universes' moon; she'd climbed into his hospital bed late at night and clutched at him, hot tears wetting his chest as she thought about everything she could have lost._

_The third and last time was the day Simon told them the news. As she looked at the graph and ultrasound image on the screen her eyes had welled up. One hand had clutched his as he too stared in wonder. It was the first time he'd seen his son, and his favourite time he'd ever seen Zoe cry._

"When you gave us those results our whole world suddenly felt whole. And for River…this has torn her world to pieces. Hers and Jayne's."

Simon nodded. "I don't…I don't know what to do. I'm trying to find something useful in these journals, and I don't even know when we'll hear from…"

Wash nodded. "How did he look?"

Simon was silent for a moment before answering quietly. "Ready to die."

They sipped their beers quietly for a moment. Wash looked over at River. She'd become distraught when he'd been reflecting on Jayne's behaviour at the dinner table. Zoe said to remember the girl was a Reader, that nobody but River and Jayne really knew what happened that night, that even with all the evidence they had to trust.

He knew she was right. Looking at the girl, the funny little thing who loved letting him wax lyrical about dinosaurs and flying, who made him laugh with her impressions of the rest of the crew, he knew he had to trust her. Only thing was, the girl he knew seemed to be disappearing, and he wasn't sure who was being left in its wake.

He glanced at Simon. The boy hadn't slept in days, and Wash made up his mind. "Come one, it's time for some rest."

Simon shook his head and Wash grinned. "I'm not as scary as Mal or Zoe but I'm still bigger than you."

Simon looked at him with the tired eyes of a man close to breaking point. "What do I do?"

Wash nodded. "Easy. You sleep, you regroup. And then you wake up and start fighting again. More than anything, you love her, no matter what happens."

* * *

Zoe sipped her water at the table, not glancing up when Book entered. "You thirsty preacher?"

He sat down heavily. "I'm lost."

She smiled without humour. "Ain't that big a boat."

He returned the smile though it didn't reach his eyes. "So it would seem. And yet, with one member missing I can't help but think it's grown into a much darker, colder place than I remember."

Zoe stayed silent as he continued. "That day on Haven…Jayne didn't judge me. It seems I should try to extend him the same courtesy."

Zoe held his eyes calmly. "If you hadn't done what you did, you would never have told Wash to move. And I would have lost everything."

He rubbed a hand over his brow. "As glad as I am that you are still here, all three of you, I still can never forgive myself for the violence."

Zoe stood, looking down at him carefully. "Imagine how Jayne feels."

Book's hand tightened of their own accord. The guilt he'd been living with for the last six and a half months was the guilt of killing…of torturing the man who had wiped out over a hundred innocent lives. Jayne's guilt was over a single act of violence that would nonetheless have stolen more of his soul than anything Book could possibly commit.

She moved out of the room and Book hated the note of concern in his voice. "Where are you going?"

She turned back, and he was struck by how regal she could look with her stomach swollen. Her eyes stayed calm, and Book thought to himself that he knew exactly why Mal kept Zoe around. No matter the drama, not matter the tragedy, the Captain would always have someone ready to undertake the simple, practical tasks required in order to survive.

It was more than that.

That stoic strength, that air of control even with her child growing, it all spoke of someone who knew all too well the danger of losing oneself. It spoke of someone who was aware, possibly more than she would ever admit, of what could happen when that control slipped, when the animal inside gained footing.

Book wondered what fire had forged the self-control in Zoe that everyone took as a given.

Her voice was steady as ever. "I'm goin' to let someone know she's going to have company."

* * *

Vera moved silently. Mattie was beside her, watching carefully, ready to go on her signal. When she saw the moment she twitched her hand once, grinning as his muscles bunched swiftly, setting him to a run. She clutched the sharpened stick and waited until the rabbits moved towards her still form, petrified by the beast chasing them.

She jabbed out fast, skewering two, and Mattie had another clutched in his jaws as he trotted back. She smiled and held out the basket, into which he obliging dropped his bounty. Ginger had once asked her how she had Mattie so well trained.

Vera hadn't known how to answer.

She sat on a sun warmed rock, pulling out her water bottle and tipping some into her hat. Mattie drank deep as she took a swig of her own. It wasn't training, it was never about training. It was a partnership, one formed of mutual respect.

_Her stomach was growing and so was her furry friend. While the rest of her body was still scrawny her swollen abdomen was throwing off her balance. She gasped as she slipped in the river, her head smashing against the rock._

_When she'd come to it had been with black eyes looking down at her reproachfully. He'd dragged her clear of the water, hauling her unconscious body back to their little camp. He nudged her upright until she banked the fire, and the pulled over the straw bedding she'd dried only days earlier._

_As he gave her ear an affectionate lick she knew she had to go back to the city. One hand grazed over the only remaining evidence of the violent stranger who had brutalized her. His wet nosed travelled with it, and suddenly they both froze. He pulled his head back in shock and she grinned._

_The first kick._

As he so often did Mattie seemed to hear her thoughts, and he nudged his head against her shoulder. Standing as tall as a small pony, he could have easily made her a meal if he felt so inclined. She'd never thought about it though, and he shot her a look of distaste that made her smile.

A customer had once asked her how she could trust a wild animal with her son. Her mind had immediately flitted back to Jayne when he was only four years old, clutching her hand as they walked back from the market. Mattie had taken up the rear, but the man who went for her basket obviously didn't notice him at first.

She had no idea how, damn thing was near as big as a house.

Mattie had awaited an order until the man had knocked Jayne over in his hurry to get away. The dog had sprung after him, tackling him to the ground and latching razor sharp teeth around his throat. He hadn't moved, and Vera had managed to convince him to wait until the lawmen showed up. They'd seemed more sympathetic than angry towards the man, and she'd rolled her eyes when they helped him up.

Mattie had been distracted, firmly licking a giggling Jayne as if checking him from injuries. Later that night she'd made sure Mattie had a huge plate of bacon ready for dinner, and Jayne had pulled at his hair the whole time.

Some of the townsfolk didn't bother hiding their distrust and fear of her hairy companion. She didn't really blame them, though she'd never properly understand it. It wasn't so much that Mattie didn't like other people; he just rarely saw a use for them. The girls at the house always charmed him with a few choice morsels (and Vera would raise an eyebrow at his frankly slutty behaviour), but apart from that he tended to stick to his little pack.

She idly scratched his ears as she thought.

Her comm unit buzzed at her hip. Ginger had begun insisting she wear at years ago, after a spell in the forest had left her with a nasty flu. Still, it wasn't used except for emergencies.

She stood, gripping the basket with one hand and nodding at Mattie.

"Let's go."


	18. Chapter 18

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Holy crap this chapter wanted to be posted long before it was ready. Wily bastard…

* * *

Simon sat silently in the chair he'd pulled beside River's bed. One hand was curled around hers, the other gripping the side of the infirmary platform. He had to grip it tightly, had to keep his hand in that same spot.

If he didn't…

"_Simon, we gotta go!"_

_His twelve year old self grinned at his five year old sister. She gripped his hand tightly, dragging him away from the desk and towards the gardens. He knew where she would take him, knew she would avoid the manicured lawns like they were lava, knew it was the open pasture land at the back of their property she would head for._

_They ran through the fields, and as her hair streamed behind her, thin legs galloping along through the pasture at top speed, he knew this was where she belonged. Running wild, stretching her wings, relishing the sting of the wind and the burning in her lungs as she flew over the unkempt grass._

_She would find wild horses, sprinting alongside them, and it was all Simon could do to just keep up. But keep up he didn't, because he wouldn't have missed the look on her face._

_Not for anything._

_His father hated her playing in the gardens ever since she'd made a wreath of their prize roses. She'd said they were lonely and needed to feel connected to each other. She'd been banned from their library for a week as a punishment._

_Every night of that week he had waited until their parents went to sleep, sneaking down the hallway and into River's room. She would have already made the sheet fortress, and he would spend hours reading with her, the nightlight their only accompaniment._

_The day their father had sold the wild land to property investors River's heart had broken. Simon had held her close, promising that one day it wouldn't just be a pasture she could run through._

_It would be the whole 'verse._

His hand shook.

Too much was ready to spill over, too many memories were crowding his mind as he tried to stay focused, tried to help.

If he moved he knew what would happen. He knew that his fingers would tentatively skim over the still taut abdomen that was apparently home to his future niece or nephew. He would imagine a heartbeat, impossible this early in development. He would begin to picture the eyes, the face, his sister's features miniaturized on a tiny form.

He would see the eyes turn blue and he would lose control.

The journals were frustrating beyond belief. The detail was at times startling, but they made reference to a virus he'd never encountered, the Ares complex. His research had failed him so far, he'd been beyond irritated. Nonetheless he needed to stay at it, needed to find the thread of connection, needed to get the information to…

To Jayne.

A thin hand twitched. He looked up into whisky eyes that looked less human than he'd ever seen before. She swung her hand up and…

Nothing.

Her voice was a hiss. "Release from bindings immediately."

He heard feet running towards the infirmary but didn't turn around. The hoarse scream echoed down the hallway and he fought to keep his voice calm and clear as she fought against the restraints he'd put on her while she was sleeping.

"Protective protocol requires acquiescence to medical expertise. Defer."

The eyes locked onto his, and he held his breath.

"_Defer_."

The energy seemed to drain out of her and suddenly he was looking at River once more. Her eyes filled with tears and he heard a gasp behind him. He ran one hand down her hair as she began to apologise.

"Simon, Simon she's sorry, the…the protocol-"

"I know, _mei mei_. It's ok. You are safe right now, I won't let anything happen to you or…"

He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence but she knew what he was saying. She stretched out her fingers, running them along his own as her wrist moved against the binding. She didn't ask him to release her.

Book appeared at his side white as a sheet.

"And just what was that?"

River's voice was a low hum. "Application of previously ascertained protocols designed to protect offspring. Use of superior authority to challenge base instinct."

Simon swallowed heavily. "I…I subverted her training. Whatever they did to her, whatever the behavioural modification was, it was designed to protect any children she might…"

He clasped her hand tightly. "I'm a doctor…because of the training she has to…she has to do as I say."

He sucked in a breath and Book wrapped one arm around him. "You did well, son."

Simon fought the urge to lean against the older man and lose himself. River's eyes were holding his, and he saw 18 years of love and protection, saw his brilliant, beautiful sister who would sooner die than cause him pain. She was trying so hard to stay lucid, trying to hold herself together, to fight the training in order to tell him what he needed to know. It was like a horrific puzzle that he couldn't quite place the pieces of, and he cherished the moments when she looked like she was still River.

It couldn't last.

Suddenly the eyes changed, and the fight began anew.

* * *

Zoe looked at the woman on the other side of the cortex screen. The wavy black hair hung around a lean face and visible collarbones, though it was apparent that the slender form was from hard work rather than malnourishment. The olive skin and youthful appearance would have made Zoe question the authenticity of the respondent, but the blue eyes flashed familiar lightening, and she knew.

Jayne's mother.

Vera's form was taut with tension. She hadn't said a word as Zoe had told her the most vague details of their situation and requested asylum. She narrowed her eyes carefully, and Zoe was aware that lying wouldn't get her very far.

"Where's my boy?"

Zoe went for harsh honesty. "We don't really know. Takin' on some kind of journey, gettin' ready for battle."

Vera nodded once. "Fine. Y'all come ta Purgatum soon as ya can. Leave yer boat in the woods and head straight fer The House of Night. Any passer-by will be able ta point ya in the right direction."

Zoe blinked. "The House of Night?"

Vera's smile had sharp edges. "Ain't y'all ever been ta a cathouse before?"

Zoe couldn't help but chuckle. "As a matter of fact, your son-"

She stopped, embarrassed, but Vera's smile softened slightly and Zoe could see the calmness in her eyes.

"Bet he goes any chance he gets don't he? Y'all should be grateful for it."

Zoe nodded as Vera's eyes darkened. "When y'all get here I'ma expect more than the slippery story ya jus' laid out."

Zoe rested a hand against her swollen abdomen unconsciously. "Are you sure you want that?"

Vera laughed without humour. "I like you Zo', but it seems ya got a lot o' learnin' ta do bout me."

Zoe nodded. "True, and likewise."

Vera's smile was tight but genuine.

"I look forward to it."

* * *

_Her eyes lit up as her brother turned from concerned sibling into capable doctor. Jayne stared as Simon saved the man before turning to lay into the incompetent who had been treating him. He glanced down at the girl, her solemn little face now shining with pride as her brother worked his magic._

_Jayne recognised that look in Simon's eyes. That was purpose._

"_They opened up her skull…that's a scalpel scar. They opened up her skull and cut into her brain."_

_He stared at the imager as his mouth formed the only question he could think of. _

"_Why?"_

_Simon froze as he saw it. "They stripped her amygdala."_

"_Her what?"_

"_You know how you get scared or worried or nervous but you don't wanna be scared or worried or nervous so you push it to the back of your mind…you try not to think about it? Your amygdala is what lets you do that. It's like a filter in your brain, it keeps your feelings in check."_

_Jayne felt the burn of recognition in his throat. That part of your brain that said 'don't', 'suppress', 'hide'…nobody knew better than he how important that part was. It was the single piece that had kept him from destroying his childhood, the part his mother had worked tirelessly to help him control. The part that told him the violence and destruction raging inside, the energy that crackled through his body, was something he could fight and overcome._

_He reached out a hand to touch the missing piece he wouldn't have survived without. The doctor smacked it away without looking, entirely focused on his sister._

_Simon looked distraught._

"_She feels everything, she can't not."_

_He tried to imagining feeling everything and couldn't. Couldn't imagine being unable to quash the energy and rages, couldn't imagine being unable to lock down tight on his emotions and just get on with things as he chose._

_The girl didn't have that part. She had no way of supressing her baser instincts. He thought back to the day before, his chest slashed open with a kitchen knife as she proclaimed he looked better in red. Those eyes locked with his, trying to make him understand something._

_She knew._

_He grunted. "Well that's fascinating, let's get movin'."_

_Hours later, after Mal finally let him out of the airlock, as the guilt and shame tattooed themselves onto his psyche, he crept into the infirmary. There, in the bin, he found the remnants of the bloodied shirt he'd thrust at Simon the morning she'd sliced his chest open._

_He stuffed it into the box without a second thought._

He didn't wake up. He just decided it was time to rise.

He knew he wouldn't be able to wave the ship for a few days, already aware that it wasn't only Badger's men who were following him. He knew he needed to get off planet, fast.

He slid a hand into his pack pocket and pulled out the data disc he hadn't given the doc and a tiny journal. The diary had a red stamp across it, proclaiming its origins clearly. Unlike the medical journals he'd found this was written in lay speak, easy enough to understand if he put the time in, which he had.

He scowled at the journal, hating the man who had written it.

He looked at the data disc. Insurance, he thought of it as, a way of making sure he wouldn't be followed by Serenity's wayward crew. The possibility was low, Zoe's baby wasn't more than a month or so away from being ready to come into the 'verse, and Mal wasn't likely to risk his first mate for a rap-

He shuddered.

Might as well say it.

"A rapist."

The words seemed to echo through the dingy room like a gunshot, and the clarity he'd slowly been working towards seemed to crystallize, like ice in his veins.

His expression was blank but inside things seemed to become very clear, very easy. The heat in his system adjusted rapidly to its newfound lack of moral compass, the self-control no longer a factor. Serenity had left, the source of his ongoing sexual energy was no longer around, and he had a job to do.

He flicked open the data disc, fingers finding the coordinates easily. He already knew the planet he needed to get to, but the exact location had eluded him.

Until now.

He washed quickly in the sink, shouldering his duffel bag and climbing down through the window. The rain hadn't let up, the sky still dark despite the early daylight, and he was afforded plenty of cover as he sprinted towards the docks.

First stop: Osiris.


	19. Chapter 19

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

"_Baby, I got ya somethin'."_

_He grinned in anticipation as she pulled the heavy jacket from the shopping bag. It was far too large for his ten year old frame, but the material was thick and sturdy, designed to withstand most terrains with ease._

_Mattie sniffed at it as Vera straightened his collar. "It's too big fer now, but yer gonna grow inta it. Jacket like this should last ya years an' years."_

_Rain began to patter against the windows and Mattie turned his head towards the door. Jayne watched as his mother smiled and grabbed their camping packs._

"_Wanna go try it out?"_

* * *

Chan narrowed his eyes at the huge cortex screen permanently set up as a location recorder. He'd been irritated for two weeks now, ever since the blinking light that should be showing up on Persephone was nowhere to be seen. He knew that staring would do no good; Griggs' vitals monitor had indicated stress and then nothingness, and the results were fairly conclusive. Dead.

He sighed. So frustrating to lose such a valuable employee, especially one who's knowledge of their methods had been cultivated over many years of experience. Still, the slave never liked working with the Breeder's, and though Mathias' demise had led to the Academy candidates being passed over to their care, Griggs had still failed to show any real zeal for the project.

Chan had sometimes wondered why Griggs never asked about the IA tattooed on his arm.

He rolled his chair across the lab. So strange to be back in a familiar setting after using the temporary setups for so long. Assistants scurried around in the background, working quickly and carefully as they performed their mandatory tests and checkups.

Without access to the vast armies they had once been privy to their next mission was going to be difficult. The Ares complex was unstable, but they would need their Breeders as ready as possible for what Chan had in mind.

The girl. He needed the girl, needed to find out if she was still alive after the MA had ravaged her, needed to know if there was any success to be found. Even without conception she was still priceless, and though the Miranda broadwave had put their retrieval efforts at odds with the new Government, she was still essential to their plans.

He frowned as he thought about Miranda. Such a brilliant hypothesis, formulated by his protégée, it has been a shame when everything went south. Still, they had their original research, and they had their contingency plans ready. The Program scientists were the only people in the 'verse not shocked by the broad wave.

He thought about the one person who had truly understood their vision, and smiled.

An assistant appeared at his elbow and he nodded sharply. "Send a wave to the Tam residence; tell them we need information."

* * *

The trip to Purgatum took the better part of two weeks, and the entire crew was feeling the effects. Inara wasn't speaking to Mal, though any watcher knew that she wanted to, and any voyeur knew he hated every second of silence. Kaylee was focusing all her energy of Simon, either working on the engine or forcing him to eat, to sleep, to let go, even for a second.

The light in her eyes was dimming as her heart took on the pain and anguish of every crewmember.

She watched the crew. Book had taken to staying by River's side when Simon wasn't there, and would occasionally be joined by a silent Mal. They would simply keep one another company, neither saying a word as their eyes would skim over books, charts, journals…and the restraints she so often required. Wash was pushing Serenity with every trick in the book, desperate to get them to land, to safety.

To a moment's peace.

She had watched yesterday when Mal had noticed Zoe's face screw up in pain before the first mate had returned to her usual stoic visage. It had shaken him to the core, made Kaylee's eyes widen, and he did something he'd never done before; he talked to Wash behind Zoe's back. The pilot had gritted his teeth, knowing his wife needed medical attention soon, but she had flatly refused.

When they'd asked why she'd forced them into the cargo bay.

Kaylee knew she should have been used to the sight but it still shook her something fierce. Simon ducked as a crate flew past his head. River's thin form was covered only by her underwear and the heavy cargo jacket she had refused to take off since they had left Persephone. Attempts to dress her were sometimes met with success, but so often they ended in violence and fear. Male contact repulsed her, and the non-spoken recognition of what had happened on Persephone shook the crew to their core. Her hair, once brushed into gloriously healthy curls by Inara, was now the tangled mess it had been when she first arrived.

For his part Simon was reluctant to force her into another sleep, preferring to let her try and fight the programming that was ripping through her system and shutting down her reasoning. The moments of lucidity were worse, the times when she would fall to the floor weeping, clutching at her brother and stammering out apologies.

Mal and Wash watched as Simon held is sister, comforting and whispering reassurances until suddenly her body strung taught again. Then the reflexes he'd been forced to earn rapidly in the last few weeks would snap into effect, throwing him backwards before she could land a blow.

His voice turned hard. "Stand down, risk to fetus due to elevated blood pressure and increased adrenaline bordering on dangerous."

She froze, one arm twitching as her body was forced to acquiesce to his order.

Kaylee had once asked him why he didn't just order her to do that all the time. He needed a break, and she was having so many difficulties in remaining lucid. Drugs were wearing off too quickly and he was reluctant to continue forcing medication when he wasn't sure what was happening. Even the basic smoothers sometimes had odd effects, bringing about bouts of disconcerting word webs that would spin through their minds and lay heavy on their brains.

When she'd asked him he'd been holding on to a cup of coffee like it was a lifeline. His exhausted eyes had given her the answers she needed; for every time Simon was forced to apply the pressure of her training, the young doctor lost a piece of himself.

And River got a little further away.

Kaylee had watched when Zoe had asked Mal and Wash what they would have Simon do. Neither had been able to speak. She understood; Zoe wanted her baby safe, but with Simon focusing so hard on just keeping River together she was doubting his expertise.

Luckily he'd spotted her expression later and demanded she head in for a check-up. She had been ready to refuse when River, in what may have been a moment of lucidity or possibly a terrifying darkness, had laid one hand on her arm.

"Acquiesce or risk fetal distress." No poetry to the husky words, and it had been unclear of exactly where the distress was meant to be originating from, but Zoe knew better than to doubt their Reader.

No matter how lost she seemed.

It was often far too much for Kaylee to take, trying to find the light in this dark place they now called home. Sometimes she crept into River's room late at night, long after Simon had fallen into the fitful, shallow thing they were calling sleep. She should have been afraid, she knew it, but she couldn't bring herself to fear her friend.

River would be sitting cross legged on the bed, and Kaylee would have thought she had been waiting for her expect for one thing. A thin hand would be placed gently on her stomach, and the whisky brown eyes would be locked on the wall in front of her. And if Kaylee looked very, very closely, there may have been the ghost of a smile on her face.

The first night Kaylee found her like that she knew somehow not to speak. She'd only sat quietly next to River and her hand, moving of its own accord, would join the pale one already there. They would sit like that for hours, and Kaylee would feel as if maybe some of the light she lost was moving back into her body as the two of them held the home of Jayne's offspring.

Mal entered the bridge as Wash looked down at the planet in front of them. The entire thing looked like it had been baked far too long in an oven, but there were also strange patches of dark green. Zoe, silently standing at her husband's side, had stared out at the red rock. Mal pointed carefully.

"There, there's the town. An' there's a clearing on that side of the forest. Seems we could land there fer a spell."

Wash nodded, and Mal watched as he lowered them down onto Purgatum.

* * *

Gabriel Tam flicked through the sheath of papers his accountant had handed over with a frightened face Ever since Miranda it was becoming near impossible to make and keep a proper fortune. He wondered, as he had so many times before, if he shouldn't have just sold River to the nobleman who had liked her ballet recital so much. The union could have paid a pretty penny.

Simon had objected fiercely enough that he'd been forced to back down. The Academy had still been a better option than keeping the girl here. If Regan had noticed the way his eyes wandered she had never said a word, but the house was a happier place without their too talented daughter taking up everyone's time and…thoughts.

He was silently fuming, not only from the financial reports but also because Tate, his butler, had been failing to stand by with his daily notices. He'd been forced to collect them himself, and the one from Chan looked like it might be urgent. Idiot.

He turned down the hallway towards his study when suddenly something hit him. It was a strange smell, like soil and blood. It stung at his nostrils, making him pause. The guard stationed along the isolated hallway was still dressed in the uniform he expected all of his workers to purchase and wear, the helmet was spotless, but there was something off about his posture, the way he held his weapon.

He narrowed his eyes for a moment. That enormous gun looked nothing like the standard Alliance-issued energy rifle they normally carried. He tried to remember if anyone else was holding new weaponry, but he rarely looked at servants unless necessary. He couldn't actually remember if there had been any others on his way here, but that was impossible, they were stationed at every hallway. He also didn't remember authorizing new weaponry for his guardsmen, and he certainly didn't appreciate a servant smelling like they'd been in a bar fight or three.

He strode towards his office door, ready to call Tate and demand to know what was happening with his staff, when a noise made him turn back.

The guard was gone.

How odd.

He clutched the data slides and turned to stride into his study, only to find his path blocked.

He looked up, and up, and up, into unfamiliar eyes.

Something dark moved behind those eyes, and he opened his mouth to scream.

No sound ever emerged.

* * *

They had touched down only fifteen minutes ago, but the crew was busy securing the ship to be left for a while, and River was standing quietly with Book in the forest outside. Mal and Wash were armed and on the look-out for the dangerous fauna that inhabited these forests, but Simon was looking through the infirmary, making sure he had packed everything he needed. He'd already scoured River's room, and Kaylee was looking after their things.

The Captain had said that if things went right they wouldn't be back for a while at least.

Nobody had laughed.

Suddenly a cortex screen flicked on in the corner of the room. Simon's head snapped up and his eyes widened as he looked into the screen.

"Jayne."

Jayne nodded as Simon narrowed his eyes. "What are wearing….where did you-"

"Ain't got no time fer questions doc. Them journals tell ya much?"

Simon nodded, sensing the urgency in Jayne's voice, highlighted by the muted sounds of an alarm in the background. "Yes. It seems that the Academy ran a companion mission, one aimed at a new generation. They harvested people from the Outer Rim, experimented on them with something called the Ares complex."

Jayne sucked his teeth. "What's that?"

Simon shook his head. "As of right now I'm not sure, but it was designed to increase their adrenal responses, stimulate aggressor genes. The idea…"

Simon swallowed. "The idea seems to have been that they would breed with Academy candidates."

A few weeks ago Simon would have sworn that Jayne's eyes would flash with guilt and that concern would riddle his features. There was something very strange about the blue eyes staring evenly back at him, something far too calm to be human.

The bigger man continued. "Anythin' else?"

Simon flicked through his notes. "The planet they started this testing on is unnamed; all mentions have been stripped from the records by someone called Doctor Chan. He was in charge of the project. Some of the candidates…" His voice broke but he forced himself to continue. "Preliminary experiments seem to indicate that candidates didn't survive the…mating."

Jayne's head moved at a sound only he could hear, and Simon thought he got a glimpse of a bound figure behind him. The room, darkened until only the cortex screen was illuminating Jayne's face, looked nonetheless familiar. His eyes widened.

"Jayne, is that-"

"Gotta go Doc."

Those eyes held him pinned for a moment, watching him carefully. "Ain't no need fer grievin', jus' callin' in the debts."

"Jayne wait-"

The screen flickered to black and Simon heard Mal calling for him.

* * *

Jayne turned the chair, looking down at Gabriel Tam's terrified face. He pulled out the journal from his back pocket, tapping it against his knee a few times.

"Seems ta me ya ain't quite the Daddy dearest that boy deserves. An' I know yer lil girl would have a thing'r two ta say 'bout this."

Gabriel's eyes went wide as he spotted his own diary, and immediately filled with tears as Jayne pulled out a Bowie knife from his boot. He shrugged out of the guard's uniform, letting it drop to the floor and cricking his neck.

"Never knew my Pa, an' lookin' at this I'm thinkin' that ain't such a bad thing."

He knelt low enough to lock eyes with the whimpering mass that had tears and mucous dripping down its face.

"Now, Gabriel. How's about you an' me have a nice lil chat?"

The alarm may have gone off for hour, but by the time the lawmen showed up there was only an open guard's jacket and a mutilated corpse left in the Tam manor.


	20. Chapter 20

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

The screaming was interspersed with memories.

"_They took Christmas away."_

"Please, please, I'll tell you anything!"

"_What the hell now?"_

"_Came downstairs for the shiny presents. They took the tree and the stockings, nothing left but coal."_

The sound of the knife hitting bone, dull and surprisingly pleasant.

"No, NO! Not again, please!"

"_Would you shut her up?"_

"Oh God! I didn't, I never, they were only thoughts!"

"_Don't look in the closet either it's greedy. It's not in the spirit of the holiday."_

"_You shut the hell up right now or so help me, I will shut you up."_

"Come on now Gabriel, don't be shy. I'ma need a name."

A gurgled plea. "Pllleaash…no more."

A wolfish grin. "Aw, but I ain't even gotten started.

A gasp. "I-isis!"

Hours later Jayne watched from a nearby rooftop as the lawmen surrounded the Tam manor. Slow _hun dans_, he'd even had time to take a fast, cold shower before he'd left.

He jumped into the alleyway behind the building, stopping as he entered the street. A middle aged woman dressed in rich silks was disembarking a carriage, a servant trailing behind her with arms full of shopping.

She swept her eyes over his form disdainfully, taking in the worn cargos, black tank, fingerless gloves, scuffed combat boots and duffel bag. He raised an eyebrow from behind his sunglasses, curling his lip for a second as he smelt something vaguely familiar.

Suddenly a servant gasped as they noticed the lawmen swarming the manor. By the time Regan Tam had turned back the large man had disappeared.

Jayne bolted down the street.

Time to get a move on.

* * *

Vera checked over the rooms with a quick, professional eye. The lower levels of the House of Night consisted of a bar, kitchen, dining room and front desk. The two middle levels were the small, clean rooms in which her girls plied their trade. The upper levels of the manor house were family wings; each girl had their own quarters and bathroom, and Ginger had been adamant that such rooms were not used for trade, which Vera agreed with strongly. Any girls trading on the upper levels were dismissed quickly and quietly, with the exception of Carrie, who had snuck in a lover she was sure they wouldn't approve of.

Vera shook her head as she remembered. She'd never demanded servitude, no contracts were ever exchanged, girls were free to leave as they pleased. They almost never did. When it came to male suitors Vera was known to be over protective; she had only one rule.

If Mattie didn't like 'em, they were gone.

Carrie and Michael now had three children and still visited often, the little ones delighting in their big hairy friend who didn't mind having his ears tugged.

The top level held the large family wing; Ginger had a small apartment on one side, moving out of the larger rooms when she'd given Vera control. A comfortable sitting room was surrounded by multiple bedrooms and bathrooms. The rooms had rarely been used, Vera didn't require a great deal of space, but they were currently being cleaned.

She nodded at Sandra. "Check the linens fer me again, will you?"

The blonde nodded, smiling as she went about her business. So many of the girls were too young to know Vera's wayward son personally, but his story was told and retold by the older women who still found employ here. When their trade was no longer attracting customers they would move into other roles, cooks and servants, ensuring that the House of Night was the finest kept brothel in the quadrant.

There was one room she hadn't let any of the girl's clean, one room that had stayed unoccupied for the last 30 years.

Vera headed down the back staircase, joined by Mattie who had been getting his stomach scratched by the girls on the fourth level. She grinned as she scratched his ears affectionately; he was anxious, he always was when Vera felt nervous. She kept her voice quiet.

"Still don't excuse you usin' 'em as yer personal masseurs."

His face didn't change but his tail wagged in a way she could only describe as smug, and she laughed.

Suddenly something caught his ear, and as he bounded down the stairs she followed quickly, reaching for the pistol she wore at her hip. They bolted into the entrance hall and Vera froze.

Mattie stayed silent behind her as she watched the six strangers in her entrance hall. Their backs were turned, all of them watching at the front desk as a man who was obviously the leader spoke to Katrina.

"Lookin' fer a Vera Cobb, she 'round here?"

Katrina was no greenhorn, she knew the protocol. Even though Vera had told her to expect guests she wasn't likely to admit anyone without further information. Vera watched as a tall woman with mocha skin and a heavily swollen stomach surreptitiously tried to work a knot out of her lower back. A man with strawberry hair slid a hand up and obligingly pressed against the muscle without looking. Another woman was dressed far too finely to have been from anywhere but the Core, and a third girl was staring at the erotic wall hangings with wide, innocent eyes and an earthy smile. The tall man with white hair pulled back in a tight knot was speaking with the leader as Katrina politely questioned who they were.

"River, wait!"

A movement in the doorway had her tensing as a flustered looking young man with handsome features chased after a thin girl whose brown hair was flying out behind her as she bolted into the entrance hall. She stopped, feet wide and ready for action as her eyes whipped around the room, thin form clad in a blue dress and a heavy, familiar jacket.

Jayne…

The whisky eyes locked onto Mattie, and Vera saw something very familiar flash as the solemn face broke into a startlingly brilliant smile.

Vera narrowed her eyes as Mattie bolted towards the girl, and the young man with the protective gaze of a sibling rushed in front of her. His eyes were wide as the rest of the crew turned towards the noise, hands going to weapons at the sight before them.

"B-b-back, get back!"

The girl behind him laughed, a haunting sound that echoed through the hallways. She laid a hand on his shoulder and Vera was struck with the fact that though the girl was scrawny and couldn't be out of her teens yet there was still no question as to who was leading who.

The young man stepped aside shaking, and the brown haired leader yelled loudly. "Simon what the _guay _are ya doin'? Get her away from that monster!"

The girl didn't look away from Mattie's eyes, and she took a step forward. Mattie began to sniff her, starting with the jacket and then moving towards her neck and hair. The movement made her brother tense enough that he looked ready to snap, and when she reached out a thin hand Vera heard a female gasp from the crew. At the first scratch of his head Mattie nuzzled against her stomach, butting into her hand and wagging his tail when she laughed.

Her delighted laughter made her brother inhale sharply, as if the sound was a surprise. Vera whistled once, and Mattie's head snapped up. He whined once, unwilling to leave the girl's tender ministrations, and Vera rolled her eyes as she stepped forward.

She moved in front of the tall man with brown hair and a browner coat. He was handsome, and would have been more so if worry and exhaustion weren't leaving his eyes blank and tired.

"Cap'n Reynolds? I'm Vera Cobb."

The Captain, like his crew, was finding it hard to move as a dog as large as a horse butted affectionately at their Reader. The incoherent terror they'd been faced with for the last few weeks seemed to have dissipated, and he turned confused eyes to Vera.

She smiled. "Don't look so damn surprised, Mattie's a tart, an' yer girl seems ta know him."

The man with strawberry hair's eyes widened. "That's Mattie?"

Vera grinned as she thought about how little her son shared with his crewmates. Her furry companion, seeing his mistress talking to the others, had now rolled onto his back in order for thin arms to scratch his fur.

Mal swallowed and nodded. "Miss Cobb, I'm Malcolm Reynolds. That there is Zoe, m'first mate, an' out pilot Wash." He turned, tugging Kaylee forward. "This here's Kaylee, our mechanic, an' Book over there is our cook."

She ran her eyes over each crew member, smiling at Zoe. The wave hadn't shown the pregnancy, and from the protective gleam in the pilot's eye, along with the hand still working out the knot in her back, she knew who the father was. The finely dressed woman was watching the girl playing with Mattie carefully, and Vera thought she saw some tension between the Captain and the black haired beauty.

She flashed Vera a charming smile. "Miss Cobb, I am Inara Serra, it is a pleasure."

Vera raked her eyes over the woman. The composure and elegance spoke of class, but the charm wasn't all natural; this woman knew what she was doing. Still, there was no malice, and since Mattie was comfortably getting his massive stomach scratched by a girl who barely reached his shoulder she nodded politely.

She looked back to where the dark haired man was tugging at his ear as the girl whispered to Mattie.

The tall man with white hair stepped forward at her questioning look. "That is Simon, our doctor. And with him is…River."

Plain and simple, he didn't add anything beyond that, and Vera knew the omission was deliberate.

Mattie was standing again, sniffing curiously at the young man as his sister tugged him forward. "Must be polite, make new acquaintances."

It was amusing how every bone in the man's body was telling him to run but the firm, determined hands of his younger sister forced him to stay. He nodded politely at Mattie, who sensed an opportunity and went in for an offensively sloppy lick.

The Captain cleared his throat. "We're sorry ta be bargin' in on ya like this, but we…we're runnin' out o' options."

Vera studied the crew. A few bags of meagre possessions, most of their clothes the sturdy wear of travellers, and almost every one of them armed. They looked exhausted. Something had them running scared, and she suspected it might be the same something that was the reason her boy hadn't come along for a visit.

"Jayne told y'all ta come here?"

That struck a cord. Something passed between them, her son's name bringing about a tension in the group that was thick enough to slice with a knife. Zoe, the one she had seen on the wave, nodded quickly.

"Yes ma'am, said we might be able ta lay low fer a spell."

There was a story here, and from the looks of the tense crew it was a mighty interesting one. She knew Jayne's warrant still stood, knew that no manner of begging would bid his return unless he had no other options. But from his rare letters she knew this wasn't just any crew, and he'd never, ever revealed his mother's location, or even his home planet, to anyone before.

It meant something.

She looked over at Mattie. He was sniffing happily at the nervous and now wet doctor, though he was far more interested in the slim girl whose stomach he kept nuzzling. He wasn't anxious, nor was he acting as if there were any threats, and that decided her.

"Iffen yer my boy's kin then yer welcome here."

Before anyone could object to being called Jayne's kin she looked at Katrina. "Darlin', Cap'n Reynolds an' his crew are gonna be our guests fer a spell. Can ya get their luggage to the upper floor please?"

Katrina, ever the consummate professional, nodded politely, and Vera was proud of her girl. She knew the others were peeking through the dining room entrance, though their eyes were less on the newcomers than they were on Mattie and his skinny new friend.

Vera studied the girl. Thin and pale, the kind of lack of care that indicated a mind far elsewhere, though from her brother's protective stance it wasn't for lack of trying. The boy was resting a hand on her shoulder, though Vera thought it was less out of necessity and more out of the pleasure of touching her, and she wondered how long it had been since the girl had permitted contact.

Something here wasn't right.

Vera froze when the girl looked up, eyes locking, and she saw something darkly familiar in that gaze. The girl, River, tilted her head to one side and gave a polite nod.

"Grandmother."

Vera's head snapped back to the crew. "Kitchen is fully stocked, we'll have some dinner up to y'all in about an hour. Wash, rest, set up."

She gestured them upstairs, and as the Captain passed she gripped his forearm in a strong hand. Her eyes flashed a familiar blue and he didn't try to get away.

"And sometime, real soon, y'all're gonna tell me 'xactly what kinda trouble my boy is in."

* * *

"_This here is suicide, ya do know that don'tcha? You really think you can mount a two-man frontal assault on Niska's skyplex and live?"_

_Wash turned. "Technically it's a one-man, one-woman assault. A unisex. Grenades?"_

_Zoe nodded as if her funny man husband did this every day. "Oh yes. Thank you dear." She glanced at Jayne. "They won't be expecting it."_

_He hated it when she stated the obvious. "Right, cuz they ain't insane."_

_Kaylee entered looking worried. "Uh, I just got a wave from Inara…no luck with the counsellor."_

_They didn't turn, and she looked at Jayne with those wide eyes. "What are they doin'?"_

_He grunted. "Fixin' ta get 'emselves killed."_

_Zoe turned with reproachful eyes. "We're gonna go get the Captain."_

_Little Kaylee, bless her, looked back to Jayne for confirmation. "Oh good…can they do that?"_

_He wondered when he'd become someone she trusted enough to ask that of; he was the merc, nothing more, nothing less. His answer was short and to the point._

"_No."_

_Wash's ridiculous response fell on deaf ears, and Jayne strode back towards his bunk. Idiots, going after the Captain was pointless; whatever pieces they found wouldn't be worth saving. Something twinged in his chest as he thought about the Captain, his disappointment after Ariel._

_He shrugged it off and dropped down into his bunk._

_He jumped when he saw her. The dark eyes watched him carefully, and her voice was a calm slice through his initial protestations._

"_Need the wolf."_

_He narrowed his eyes. "Huh?"_

_She stood, and he wondered what exactly Mal would do to him if he ever found out she'd been on his bed. She tilted her head and ran her eyes over the knife at his hip, his chest and torso. "Need their wolf to protect the lambs, need the darkness to regain their leader."_

_He hissed as she took another step forward. "Iffen they wanna get killed it ain't no skin off my back."_

_She smirked, an irritatingly brattish look on her usually grave face. "Liar. Whole slices flayed away, piece by piece, person by person."_

_He couldn't move as she stepped forward again, close enough that when she lifted a pale hand he almost felt it skimming his chest._

"_Need them, need them all." Dark eyes locked him in place. "Need the animal inside to retrieve stolen property."_

_She leaned up, cool breath hitting his neck as she stood on her toes, lips inches away from his own as she whispered. "Apples are a pretty penance; blood is better."_

_When she left he'd thrown his apple core into the wall of his bunk, breathing heavily. His eyes had locked on the Callahan and he'd sworn._

_Ruttin' girl. _

_Later, as Simon reprimanded Mal for the hundredth time over the incessant ear tugging, Jayne watched the girl give him the tiniest smile of approval._

_And hated how much he wanted to return it._

He didn't flinch as the needle impregnated his skin with ink. He couldn't keep collecting ears, but with each passing day he felt a little more of himself slip away.

He needed to remember. Needed everything carved into his skin so on those dark nights when the screaming kept him awake and his soul continued to drain away there would be something to remind him.

He wasn't doing this for himself.

He owed a debt, and he needed to remember he was paying it.


	21. Chapter 21

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

The crew looked around their lodgings. The upper floor was simple but surprisingly homey. Cream walls and carpet, sturdy furniture designed to withstand the weight of a dog as big as Mattie. A small living room with a dining table in the corner was where they could expect their dinner, whilst their rooms were situated around the edges of the floor. There were four rooms available, and the crew had splintered off. Zoe and Wash chose one nearest to Simon, who was bunking with Mal. Kaylee was disappointed but a quick look at Inara and the Captain told her maybe it was alright for now.

The Mediator set her things on the twin bed in Kaylee's room while Book set up with Simon. Mal had taken the single person room and few people had questioned the move, but that just left River without a roommate.

Vera watched as Simon tried to reassign things so he could stay with his _mei mei_. The girl was staying close to Mattie, and Vera recognised the support she was drawing from him as she leaned against his enormous side. She walked up beside the girl.

"I've got another room fer you."

River watched her carefully for a moment before nodding. Vera led her to the room nearest hers, a room she hadn't been inside for some time. The bed was the same, the thin layer of dust indicating its lack of use, but the girl's eyes flashed as she looked around.

When she stood beside the bed she reached out a pale hand to run fingers over the coverlet. Her eyes closed and Mattie moved to Vera's side, leaning in when she unconsciously began to stroke his coat.

"That's his jacket yer wearin', ain't it?"

The girl nodded without turning. "Holding until the owner is ready to collect."

Vera moved to stand beside her. Similar height, slim builds, but where Vera's leanness was from activity the girl's was a little on the malnourished side. Still, the slender legs were held with muscle, and Vera had the sneaking suspicion that she shouldn't doubt the girl's strength.

River nodded. "Wise woman."

Vera smiled. "Been around a while."

Those whisky eyes turned and the head tilted, chocolate curls rolling over a thin shoulder. "A while, not as long as required. Found family far too young."

Vera studied her. There was no malice in her voice, but the darkness in those eyes was reminding her far too much of her son. More than that, she was fairly sure the girl was seeing much more than a normal person, even an intuitive one, could see.

She chose her next words carefully. "Where is Jayne?"

The movement was minute, would have been imperceptible if she hadn't been looking for it, but the hand on the coverlet skimmed over the still taut stomach. The girl seemed to struggle, as if the words were not coming out the way she wanted.

"Paying…paying penance."

She looked frustrated and Vera nodded once, sharply. "Don't push it darlin'. I can wait."

Mattie butted against the girl's side and she smiled. "Special companion."

Vera nodded. "That he is, an' he's taken a likin' ta you."

Before the girl could answer her brother entered. "Miss Cobb, I'm sorry, she…"

He trailed off as he looked around the room. Vera watched as his eyes ran over the tiny hints her son had left behind; several ancient gun magazines, a rifle on the wall, a knife left on the desk. His drew in a breath and his face grew tight.

"Think yer sister will be stayin' here."

He opened his mouth to argue but the eyes locked with his and he was silenced. The girl's shoulder twitched and she saw him tense, as if ready for a battle of some kind. His voice was low and harsh.

"Request granted, hold."

Whatever passed between them was dangerous, tenuous at best, but the girl's twitching stopped and she looked at him apologetically.

Vera narrowed her eyes. "Seems about time fer me ta find out 'xactly what's goin' on."

Simon could not have looked more uncomfortably if Mattie had walked in on him while he was showering. Which, Vera reasoned, was fairly uncomfortable in and of itself. Something about her son was putting all of this crew on high alert and it was wearing thin on her admittedly miniscule temper.

"Listen to me you _duh liou mahng_, if you don't start answerin' my-"

"Ahem."

She turned, eyes blazing as Ginger appeared in the doorway. The older woman raised an eyebrow and Vera had the grace to look embarrassed. If her old friend and mentor felt the need to shut her up, she would damn well listen.

Ginger smiled at Simon, who was standing close to the Mattie-focused River. "Doctor, Miss River; dinner is served."

* * *

"_Anybody there?"_

_A familiar but unwelcome face poked around the corner and he grimaced._

"_Anybody else?"_

_Simon leant against the bench. "You're in a dangerous line of work Jayne. Odds are you'll be under my knife again, often. So I want you to understand one thing very clearly. No matter what you do or say or plot, no matter how you come down on us…"_

_Jayne waited for the threat, for the needle, for the glint to suggest he was about to breath his last breathe. _

_It never came._

"_I will never, ever harm you. You're on this table you're safe. Because I'm your medic. And however how little we may like or trust each other, we're on the same crew."_

_He moved the penlight across Jayne's eyes, checking his pupil as he continued. "We've got the same troubles, same enemies, and more than enough of both. Now, we could circle each other and growl, sleep with one eye open, but that thought wearies me."_

_Jayne struggled to breathe as the doctor loaded a syringe and plunged it into his arm. "I don't care what you've done, what you're planning on doing, but I'm trusting you. I think you should do the same. Cuz I don't see this working any other way._

_He left, the girl staying back to stare him down calmly. "Also? I can kill you with my brain."_

That was the first time he'd realized that the Core dandy they called a doctor was actually made of finely polished steel. He'd recognised it in every comfortable gesture, in the easy movements and tone of voice.

But more than anything he'd seen it in the way Simon refused to stoop to petty threats, demands for penance. That was the first time he realized what it would mean to have an ally in someone as coldly calculating and warmly focused as the Doc. The brilliance of the heist on Ariel, now the calm refusal to break his Hippocratic Oath despite Jayne's behaviour, they all spoke of an inner strength that Jayne had never thought he possessed.

Strangely enough it had reminded him of home.

"_Yer big, son. Gonna keep growin', gonna give Mattie here a run fer his money. Ya need ta stay fit, stay healthy, stay ready. But don't go mistakin' someone smaller fer someone weaker."_

_Jayne smirked at his mother, looking down at her from the foot distance between their heights. "Ain't likely ta happen Ma."_

_She rolled her eyes. "Ain't always gonna be so apparent; ya gotta watch people careful, gotta find out who's strong inside and out, who acts strong but ain't. Ya watch that, ya find that out, an' yer already three steps ahead o' the game."_

Isis was far more difficult than Osiris. Here he didn't have a data disc to give him the location. If he let it the foulness of the journal he still carried for some reason would burn into his skull, so he fought to keep it down, keep it away. Still, he had learned. He found the bar where the government officials convened.

And he waited.

The whores would occasionally try to skim hands over him but a sharp grunt and one look into icy blue eyes was enough to deter them. He stayed near the back, silent and calm, delving deep into the store of ice he had forced himself to accumulate.

He catalogued sounds, sights, smells and snippets of conversation.

He struggled not to think, not to let his mind wander. It was getting easier every day.

Eventually he found his target, and the game began anew.

* * *

The meal was hot, the crew starting slowly but then attacking the real food as if they hadn't quite seen it in months. Vera watched them as she and Ginger ate, carefully cataloguing every minute detail she could pick up from their movements. For a little while the tension seemed to dissipate, and she stayed quiet, letting them slowly begin to regroup.

Wash looked up at her, talking around a mouthful of food. "Pardon my saying so, but you don't look like I thought you would."

Ginger snickered and Vera shot her a sharp look before turning her eyes back to the pilot. "And how did you think I would look?"

Wash blushed. "A little like Jayne in a dress…only…much older."

Vera grinned. "Well I had my boy young."

Nobody seemed comfortable pointing out how few years seemed to seperate Vera and her son. Still, the wine was good, and for once their stomachs were filling with something other than protein and regret.

Wash couldn't help himself. "And bigger…you should be a whole lot bigger."

Vera actually laughed. "Well iffen he'd come out full grown things would be different!" She saw Ginger's face cloud with memory and surreptitiously rubbed her friend's hand. "It was hard, yes. But he's my boy, I can promise ya that."

Kayle grinned. "Oh we know ma'am, got the same eyes."

Vera nodded, looking at Wash carefully. "Ya got an old wound that still makes yer chest ache sometimes. Ever been electrocuted?"

Wash stared open mouthed and Zoe lifted a brow. "Yep, definitely Jayne's Ma."

As the laughter died down and people's plates emptied the table became much quieter, and Vera leaned back.

"So…tell me a story."

Shifty glances as they began to speak in hesitant, uncomfortable tones.

Siblings on the run.

Miranda.

Strange behaviour.

Persephone.

River's return.

Jayne's shame.

The eyes, the bruises, the blood.

Vera stared at the table top. The crew of Serenity, barring the mechanic and River, were watching her warily. For the first time in a long time she felt relieved that Mattie was elsewhere, not sure how he would react to the distress. Kaylee had asked if she could show River around after dinner, and despite Simon's nervous glances, Mattie had herded the girls from the living room.

This whole crew was on edge, waiting for her to react, waiting for her to begin the tears or denial or both. More than anything though she knew they were still hiding something, and for the life of her she couldn't think of what they could be concealing after the accusations made against her son.

Book's voice was apologetic. "We're sorry to tell you this but-"

Vera shook her head sharply. "But nuthin'." She struggled to keep her voice calm, aided by Ginger placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Yer wrong."

She stood, aware that disbelieving eyes followed her. Inara recovered first. "We know we do not have the whole story but-"

"Pssht." Vera shook her hand. "Not talkin' 'bout that. 'Bout the girl. Yer goin' about it all wrong."

The crew stared as she paced. Now she wished Mattie was here, she needed something to calm her down.

Simon raised an eyebrow in irritation. "I beg your pardon?"

Vera sighed, moving to pick up a capture on a nearby bench. It was old, had been taken only a few weeks before Jayne disappeared. They'd travelled down to a nearby billabong, spent the day soaking in the scorching heat and swimming. Jayne had eventually dragged Ginger down to the water, picking her up and jumping in as she slapped his shoulders and screamed. Mattie had barked and splashed happily while Vera floated. A rare moment of peace. When they'd finally dragged themselves out of the blue lake Ginger had insisted on a photo. The capture showed Jayne grinning with an arm wrapped around his tiny mother, the shot ruined when Mattie decided it was a brilliant moment to shake is coat free of water.

_Seconds after the capture was taken the energy gripped his young form. He shook slightly, trying to control himself, and Ginger called to Vera. She snapped her fingers twice in front of her son's eyes and then whistled to Mattie, who took off at a run._

_He had his pack she always made him take, had his boots and pants. She narrowed her eyes. "Run, now!"_

_He followed the order before the energy became too much, bolting after Mattie and into the night._

_When he'd come back three days later he had been exhausted, bruised…and whole again._

She set the capture down and turned back to the table. "Yer girl. Ya said she's been tampered with, said she's goin' a lil wild now. Ya can't keep restrainin' her like that."

Simon wanted to argue but she could tell she'd touched on a nerve. The exhaustion in his eyes was evident and frankly heartbreaking to witness. She moved to stand near him, calmly placing a hand on the back of his chair.

"She's feral."

His eyes flashed despite the exhaustion. "Don't you-"

Vera smiled warmly. "Calm down darlin'. It ain't a bad thin', jus' means she needs different handlin'. Trust me, I know."

He watched her carefully and seemed to find the courage to ask something he'd wanted to ask for a while. "What…what happened to Jayne?"

Vera studied him. "How 'bout I make ya a deal? Iffen ya trust me ta help with yer girl, I'll tell ya everythin' I know, _dong ma_?"

He watched her, eyes flicking over to where River entered. She was clinging to Mattie, and he saw the glazed look, recognised the concern in Kaylee's eyes as his sister seemed to start withdrawing into herself.

He nodded at Vera. "_Wu dong._"

She looked over the rest of the crew. "Right, y'all best take yer rest now." Mal shook his head. "We ain't done talkin'-"

"Words'll still be there tomorrow Capt'n, an' right now I gotta wade through some awful patchy storytellin'. Y'all being so tired ya can barely stand won't help me none."

The crew dragged themselves to their feet at the order in Vera's eyes, and soon only Simon and River remained. The doctor stood carefully, slowly, as if all too aware that a fast movement would set something off inside his sister.

Vera kept her voice calm. "Simon, why don't ya let Mattie get her ta bed."

He looked confused. "I…I don't…she can't-"

"She'll be fine. Yer only a door down from her, ya can hear everythin', I promise ya. Go find that pretty lil mechanic and let her calm ya down some."

He blushed and Vera internally pumped her fist. The first sign that he was relaxing, minutely. She knew it had more to do with the way that River clung to Mattie, seeming to focus as long as she was near him, but it was still a triumph. And one step closer to getting the full story from the crew. He looked over to his sister.

"River-"

"Shhh. Must dream of tiny fireflies."

After the siblings and Mattie had left Vera waited alone at the table for a few moments. They had been shocked by her dismissal of the accusations against her son. She was unsurprised when Captain Reynolds moved slowly back into the room, watching her carefully from the other end of the table.

She waited. "Somethin' else ya need, Cap'n?"

He sat down, and Vera thought she had never seen a man look so heavy, so weighted down, so burdened. He leaned forward, his elbows hitting the table, and held his face in his hands. The voice came out low and muffled.

"Why?"

She sipped her tea. "Jayne sent ya here. That's good enough fer me."

Mal looked up and shook his head. "No. What we done told ya, what we're sayin' he did…why're ya lettin' us stay?"

Vera stood. "Jayne sent ya here, an' ya came. What does that tell ya?"

The Captain paused and rubbed his forehead. "That ya don't believe us."

Vera smiled. "No. You don't believe you."

She moved to his side, looking down at him. "Seems ta me that iffen ya really, truly believed that he did what yer sayin' he did…he wouldn't be tellin' you ta come here, he'd be long gone. I've seen how ya are with yer crew, an' I see how they are with you. That ain't jus' employee loyalty…"

She sat in the chair beside him. "That's family. An' ya wouldn'ta come here iffen ya didn't have yer doubts."

Mal shook his head. "I don't know what I think anymore."

Vera's voice became the firm tone of a woman who had looked after a son like Jayne and a bevy of girls over the years. "Then know what I think. I think y'all need ta heal. I think ya need ta lay low, ta rest, ta find yer feet after they've been swept out from under ya."

She stood again, ready to move away from the table. She paused in the doorway.

"An' I think ya need a proper shower. Cuz damned if you ain't stinkin' out this room ta high heaven."

As she left she heard a surprised chuckle. It made her smile.

She met Ginger in the hallway. "One way or t'other, I'm find out what's goin' on with this crew."

Ginger nodded. "Ain't gonna be easy, they seem shook up somethin' fierce. An' what they say 'bout Jayne...Vera, how could-"

"I don't know. But I know I ain't gettin' more answers tonight."


	22. Chapter 22

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N:** I continue to be awed and humbled by the generosity of those reading this story. Your reviews…I can't tell you how much they mean, how your insight has shaped this tale. Still, there are promises to keep…and miles to go before we sleep…

* * *

"_And she still won't talk about what it was that they did to her at the Academy."_

_Inara's soft voice was kind but offered no false promises. "Perhaps she's not sure herself."_

_She watched River's eyes flit across the cargo bay floor, following the players as they bounced and bounded around the room. _

_Simon stared at his whole world. "She dreams about it, I know that much…nightmares. And now, on the run, on this ship? I don't know if I'll be able to help her here, and I need to help her._

_Inara blinked; he needed to know how well he was doing. "Simon you are. Leaving your whole world behind, it's incredibly selfless."_

_He watched River. She still barely looked a day over fourteen, still had the same mix of childlike innocence and ancient wisdom that had disconcerted his parents and delighted him when they were younger. _

_Inara saw the weight of their existence laying heavily across his shoulders._

"_Yeah…I selflessly turned us both into wanted fugitives."_

_Inara looked down, not meeting his eyes._

"_Well we're all running from something I suppose."_

Inara couldn't sleep. She rose silently, slipping down the stairs and outside. The building that encased the House of Night was huge, a red brick manor that would stand long after they were in the ground, was impressive. She slipped along the side, uncaring of the way dry dust clung to the bottom of her sleeping robe.

Out the back she found the gardens. The cool air of early morning held the tang of heat to come, but for now the mist settled quietly, the sky still dark. A chicken coop down the end of the garden, several beds of herbs, a thick patch of vegetables. All lovingly cared for, tended with adoration.

She kept walking to the back fence of the large garden, and looked out into the vast forest. Strange sounds echoed through the morning mist, the trees several hundred meters back, an empty pasture overgrown with weeds.

Something told her that Vera needed this pasture, the forest.

Their trip had been terrible, their first meeting with Vera disturbing. Inara could bet that the woman saw far more than they were saying, and she wondered what was going on in her mind. Her son…Jayne…what they'd accused him of…Inara lowered her head in shame.

She didn't want to believe; she couldn't.

She jumped when she became aware of the presence leaning against the fence. Ginger Lee was tall and curvy, her long red hair must have once cut a dark river along her back. Now it was streaked with grey, dusty, hanging in a comfortable plait. Inara could tell already that she had some form of training; the straight back, the subtly elegant and deceptively simple robe, they screamed of previous involvement with the Guild.

Her housemistress had once told her there were two types of flowers. Some stumbled into their Companion training, and though their beauty stunned the masses they would eventually wilt, the weight of their position destroying their form. These women would stop receiving requests in their late thirties, perhaps their early forties if they were lucky.

Then there were women like Ginger Lee. Those flowers, though their beauty may become lined with age, would hold firm; a backbone of steel would reveal itself, and their charm, their composure, would continue to prove alluring long after their younger sister's had lost their spark.

Ginger smiled at her. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

She nodded politely. "It's quite startling…the wilderness of this planet, the harshness, and yet you've managed to create this small oasis."

Ginger looked out to the forest. "Maybe for some. But for others…the intrigue, the joy, it will always be found in the wild and free rather than the clipped and polished."

She held Inara's eyes with her own green ones. "You have come a long way."

Somehow Inara knew she wasn't just talking about the journey they had taken to Purgatum.

She nodded. "Yes…yes I have."

Ginger leaned comfortably against the fence. "When Vera first came here she was half wild. She never quite lost it, always held on to that part of herself that needed to run over rocky ground rather than paved streets. Helped her raise her boy, helped her find her place in the 'verse."

Inara watched her carefully. "There is much we have to learn about this place, about Jayne's history. There are many questions."

Ginger nodded. "Yes, I imagine so. I'll tell you what; you can ask me anything you want, but I want an answer in return."

Inara thought for a moment. "Very well. How did Vera come to be here?"

Ginger smirked. "I expect the same way anybody else does." Inara kept her face blank and Ginger sighed. "Though I suppose that isn't what you were asking."

She looked at Inara carefully. "I'll tell you what I can, and what I know Vera will allow me to. She ran away from home when she was very young, and found Mattie around the same time she became pregnant with Jayne. After a while she knew she needed some civilization, and when she showed up here she was thin as a rake except for the boy in her stomach. Mattie was still just a pup, and I took her in."

Inara shook her head. "She barely looks older than Jayne. And the dog…how is he still alive?"

"Wild dogs on Purgatum are long lived, something about their breeding. And Vera wasn't more than 13 when she had Jayne."

Inara couldn't speak for a moment. "S-s…she was only 13? Who was the father?"

Ginger shook her head. "No one who would ever require a second thought before shooting."

Inara was silent and Ginger narrowed her eyes. "My turn."

Inara braced herself. Questions about Jayne, about River, about Serenity…she wasn't sure if she had the strength to answer honestly.

Ginger raised an eyebrow. "How long have you been in love with the Captain?"

Inara felt herself gaping unattractively. "Of all the…" Ginger's eyes stayed on hers, and she knew that a lie wouldn't save her here.

"_Mal, this isn't the ancient sea. You don't have to go down with your ship."_

_She wanted to beg._

"_Mal you don't have to die alone."_

_Grey eyes looking into hers, showing her everything. "Everybody dies alone."_

She sighed. "A year. I've known for sure, for at least a year."

Ginger smiled. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Inara shook her head. "For a while it seemed…after Miranda. We…we were…and then."

She fought back a sob and Ginger wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Inara was overcome with the desire to burst into tears, to stop thinking about the horror they had all experienced and feel like a young woman who had missed out on love.

She fought it.

At least, she tried to.

Ginger held her close. "Shhhh girl, don't worry. Time is a remarkable healer. And at least you know something that can help."

Inara looked up through tear glazed eyes, curiosity warring with her hurt. Ginger tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear.

"He loves you too."

Inara stopped and Ginger grinned. "Now, you know what we have here that might make life a mite easier?"

Inara shook her head, hating the sniffles that clutched at her chest. Ginger began to lead her back towards the house just as the sun began its slow ascent, tinting the sky pink.

"Fresh coffee."

Inara couldn't help the bright laugh that escaped her throat. And for a moment she felt that maybe Purgatum, harshest planet in the system, might just be the place to start healing.

* * *

He hated Reavers. He'd always hated Reavers.

"_So he'll, live then?"_

_Mal's tone was dark. "Which to my mind is unfortunate."_

_Book narrowed his eyes. "Not a very charitable attitude there Captain."_

"_Charity would be putting a bullet in his brainpan, would save him the suffering." He locked the infirmary doors. "Alright, no one goes in there. Nuthin' more we can do fer him now, not after what he's seen."_

_Jayne felt something coil around his lungs as Simon asked what they all wanted to know._

"_What do you mean?"_

_Mal strode out of the room. "That ship was hit by Reavers."_

_Fear seized his chest, the coil tightened._

"_Reavers?"_

The knife swung into its target with a dull thunk, and he pulled it from the man's temple, swinging it back into another's eye. A third approached, met with a heavy boot that broke his sternum, leaving a gasping body on the ground.

"_Why're we still sittin' here? If it was Reavers shouldn't we be gone?"_

_He didn't get it, why were they stuck here? Mal looked him over carefully._

"_Work ain't done, there's still substantial money value sittin' over there."_

_He shook his head. "Oh…I ain't goin' over there with them bodies, no ruttin' way. Not if Reavers messed with 'em."_

_Zoe's voice was amused. "Jayne, you'll scare the women."_

He turned to the remaining crewman, bravely trying to point the gun at his chest. He stared him down, watching as the fear began to make the mechanic's hands shake. The gun dropped as he flung himself to the ground, head down and arms up, begging for mercy.

Jayne turned to leave. The shot rang out and he didn't look back at the corpse he left behind, his sidearm clutched against his hip and turned backwards.

_The Alliance soldiers had questioned them all. Mal was last._

"_He looked right into the face of it and was made to stare."_

"_It?"_

"_That darkness. The kind of darkness you can't even imagine. Blacker than the space it moves through."_

He moved to where the man with the broken sternum lay, struggling to breath as blood filled his lungs. He raised his boot carefully and brought it down, crushing the skull.

"_Very poetic."_

"_They made him watch, an' he probably tried to turn away and they wouldn't let him. You call him a survivor? He's not. A man comes up against that kinda will an' the only way ta deal with it, I suspect…"_

Red. Blood red hazing his vision and begging him down the dark path that had taken a young girl and broken her.

"_Is to become it."_

Reavers. Mindless, violent, vicious, uncaring, inhuman.

"_He's following the only course left to him."_

He stretched. He'd long abandoned the shirt in favour of the freedom of being bare chested. The cargos were collecting plenty of dust; he'd have to find another river to bath in soon.

"_First he'll try to make himself look like one. Cut on himself, desecrate his flesh… "_

The black ink across his chest was only the beginning. He knew that. Knew that more and more patterns, more markers, more indicators would adorn his body. Knew that for each kill, each maim, each moment of destruction, he would require a reminder.

"_And then?"_

He would need them, need them to ground him, show him he was doing all of this for a reason. Paying his penance.

"_He'll start acting like one."_

He faltered. The ship he'd stowed away on board, the one that had turned to a battleground when they'd found him, it now stank of drying blood. It brought back memories. He felt the ice in his chest, the same ice granting him the ability to continue, cloud his mind. The energy crackled, the rage, the bloodlust, they screamed.

Jayne strode off the ship and into the Isis sun, disappearing into the crowd, leaving behind a boat full of ghosts.

* * *

She stretched out a hand to rest it on the black fur beside her. A heavy head was resting on her stomach, black eyes blinking at her as the dreams struggled to return her to that dark place.

_Skin. _

_Contact._

_The first penetration, violent and unchecked. Too much, too full._

_Her gasp, teeth biting down on his neck as he growled into her hair. One thrust to change everything, render asunder all their control, all their fighting._

_Sweat, nails tearing along flesh. Occasionally the upper hand would be gained; the beast would be thrown backwards. A boot to his chest, a backhand across his face. The battle would begin anew, and when he inevitably won her eyes would close in pain, in agony._

_In pleasure._

_Screams echoing through an empty warehouse as they were both violated._

A tear slipped down her cheek as she felt a soul wound, one that didn't belong to her, tear a little further open. Any wider and the soul would escape entirely, leaving behind only an empty husk with vengeance and fury swirling inside.

Her friend whined against her, and she pressed her face into his fur, letting her tears soak into him. The warmth, the size, the weight…it was keeping her here.

She felt a paternal tug on her psyche as someone began to awaken, felt her system attempt to fall back on old protocols.

Time for a lesson.

She looked at her new friend, who licked a tear from her cheek and trotted out of the room.

Time to break.

Time to heal.

She pressed a hand into her stomach, still warm from her friend's large head. And something else…the warmth of life. She sat up carefully, drawing strength for the tiny body housed inside her own.

"_It's a girl. Cute too, 'cept I don't think she's all there, ya know?"_

Tiny flower created from destruction.

"_Course, not all of her has ta be."_


	23. Chapter 23

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

Simon rolled over quietly, careful not to wake Book. Morning was coming, he could feel it, and he rubbed one hand across his face.

He didn't know if he could do this.

_His hands still ached from the careful work of suturing the mechanic's wound, and he felt the guilt of his bargaining weigh heavy on his heart._

_Suddenly the Captain was going for answers, striding into the cargo bay. He bolted after him._

"_Stay away from that!"_

_The giant man grabbed him easily from behind, securing him against a broad chest as he struggled. The Captain didn't turn._

"_Where's the Fed?"_

_The gruff voice in his ear didn't slow his struggle. "Secured; Shepherd's with 'im. Seems ta think he's not safe alone with me."_

_He watched as the Captain threw open the crate, eyes widening at the contents._

"_Huh."_

_The accusations would have stung if he wasn't so focused on the cryo chamber, watching for any sign of distress. Suddenly the Captain's speech was interrupted as her terrified gasp echoed through the cargo bay._

_He watched frozen as she slipped out, shaking and gasping and panting._

_And alive._

_It still amazed him._

_He pushed his way from the big man's arms, ignoring the fact that he didn't meet any resistance. He knelt in front of her, carefully gripping her shoulder's and keeping his voice as calm as possible._

"_River…it's ok! It's ok, it's ok…I'm here."_

_As her eyes locked on his he felt a moment of terror that she might not recognise him, might not understand who he was._

"_Simon?"_

_It fell away. It all fell away. The years of searching, the credits, the rejection from his father. The derelict ship, the leering mercenary, the worried Captain, the stony first mate, the shocked Companion…it all fell away._

_And then there was her._

"_Simon they talk to me! They want me to-"_

"_They're gone! They're gone, we're safe now. We're safe, I'm here."_

_He clutched her close and suddenly, despite the fear and anxiety and knowledge that he was in far over his head, he knew that he was going to be alright._

_She was there. Damaged, yes, but she was there. She was his, he'd found her, and as he clutched her tightly he knew that everything he had done, everything that he would do, it would all be ok._

"_What the hell is this?"_

_He looked up. The Captain's eyes were flat, the hulking mass of violence was still leering, and River was naked, shaking, incomprehensible, but Simon felt the same pride he always felt when he got to say the words._

"_This is my sister."_

A slender figure weighted his bed in the dark, stretching out beside him. He outstretched an arm for his sister to crawl onto, her head leaning into his neck and his hand wrapping tightly around her shoulders. His other hand came up, pulling her into a tight hug.

These moments were so rare.

His beautiful _mei mei_ didn't say a word as she lay there, one hand across his torso, cool body leeching warmth. He felt a wayward tear slip down his cheek, and knew without looking that it joined one of hers. These last few weeks, the pain, the anguish, the fear…none of it mattered.

Because he still had moments like this.

Her voice was very, very quiet, but seemed to mingle with the delicious smell that suddenly perfumed the air.

"They have coffee."

* * *

Waking up to the incredible smell of fresh bacon, homemade bread, and farm eggs was an experience Mal hadn't had in decades. Still his body, especially his stomach, remembered it as if it was yesterday.

He went to sit up and froze. The smell might be familiar.

The wet nosed pressed against his own, however, was new.

He stared into black eyes as the enormous dog poked his head over the edge of the bed, and tried to stay calm. He moved, and a low growl of warning made him freeze. A knock on his door brought about a relief unlike anything he'd ever felt, and when Zoe poked her head around he tried desperately to scream with his eyes.

Zoe would save him.

She raised an eyebrow and her lip twitched.

Zoe was evil.

She stepped into the room and suddenly Mattie was moving over to her, sniffing carefully at her stomach and whuffing happily. She looked at him curiously as Mal sat up on his elbows.

"Oh sure, one pretty lady an' suddenly yer a puppy."

If it was possible for a dog to look smug Mattie would be the one to pull it off. He huffed, nuzzling Zoe's stomach one more time before moving out of the room. Mal sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes as sunlight streamed through the window.

Zoe's voice was calm and amused. "Rough wake-up call, sir?"

He scowled. "Well, it was different, that's fer damn sure."

Before Zoe could say anything Kaylee slipped into the room with a grin. "Cap'n, you gotta come see this! They got real maple syrup an' pancakes!"

Mal raised an eyebrow as Book and Wash entered. "An' jus' when the hell did my room become the meeting place?"

Wash smirked. "Well with all the fine ladies in here we thought it was for the best."

Mal growled. "Iffen y'all don't mind I gotta get dressed, ain't wearin' anythin'."

Inara poked her head around the door. "There's fresh coffee."

The mass exit as the crew bolted out the door left only a surprised looking Inara and a scrambling to get dressed Mal. They both paused, neither willing to acknowledge the tension between them. They hadn't spoken since their argument after leaving Persephone, and Inara waited for him to say something.

He did. "I'm nekkid."

She rolled her eyes. "So I noticed."

He sighed. "'Nara, you an' me got a world o' hurt between us right now…but if I don't get some o' that coffee I'ma have ta throw a minor tantrum. Ain't gonna be pretty."

She raised an eyebrow and drew her hand from behind her back. The steaming mug scented the room with the delicious aroma of freshly ground coffee, and Mal held a hand out with a grateful smile.

She smirked as she drew it back, taking a sip and making a sigh of appreciation. "Mmmm, hope Simon hasn't finished it all."

She left, leaving behind an irate Captain who was all too aware of his medic's obsession with hot, caffeinated beverages.

* * *

The man's jaw made a tearing sound as he ripped it out, leaving behind a corpse with a gaping mouth. He turned to the frightened clerk.

"Vault?"

"_Dear diary, today I was pompous an' my sister was crazy. Today we were kidnapped by hill folk, never ta be seen again. It was the best day ever."_

The clerk pointed to the meagre cupboard, and he tore the door off its hinges. Inside were several sheaths of data files, along with a tiny portable cryo chamber. He scowled and crammed them into his bag as the alarm began to sound. The clerk shot him an ugly look of triumph and he was pleased he'd fashioned a silencer for Betty, the round hitting between the man's eyes noiselessly.

"_My god…you're like a trained ape. Without the training."_

He bolted out into the hallway, hearing footsteps in the distance. He looked around. No windows, no door, only one way out and from the sounds of pounding feet it wouldn't be long til they were here. He glanced up at the thick metal pipe anchored across the top of the ceiling.

"_You wanna leave this room."_

"_Yer damn right I do."_

He slung his bag over his shoulder and onto his stomach before reaching up, pulling himself skyward. The pipe creaked but held firm as he brought his legs parallel to the ceiling, arms straining with the effort of keeping him up and his joints locked.

He kept the bag pressed between his body and the roof as guards ran underneath him into the vault. He dropped quickly, slinging the bag back over his shoulder and bolting down the hallway before more of them came.

"_Y'all see the man hangin' outta the spaceship with a really big gun? Now I'm not sayin' ya weren't easy ta find, but it was kinda outta our way an' he didn't wanna come in the first place."_

Left, right, right, left.

He dove into a ventilation shaft just wide enough to take his bulk, crawling quickly through the walls and coming to the fan at the end. One fist snapped out to end its movement, his face unchanging as a knuckle broke. He pulled it aside, slipping down the side of the building and into the mule he'd jacked earlier.

"_Man's lookin' ta kill some folk. So really it's his will y'all should worry about thwartin'."_

He sped down the street, seeing two guards up ahead aiming rifles at his skull. He kept one hand on the wheel as he pulled out his shotgun, taking one man's head off and sending the other diving. He pushed the rig as hard as possible, relieved that night had fallen while he was in the complex. He reached the docks and leapt out, uncaring as the still active engine spun into a building.

Isis wasn't a place for big bad men to rampage, but the scenery sure was nice.

"_Shiny, let's be bad guys."_

* * *

Mal emerged from his room to see something he hadn't seen in a long time. His crew, seated around the table, laughing and talking as they shared a meal. Ginger passed bread rolls as Vera brought over more coffee, and Mal snatched up a cup before Simon could steal his share.

Mattie was seated between River and Zoe, tail wagging as the former slipped him bits of bacon and the latter let him sniff her stomach.

Zoe reached for a piece of buttered toast and suddenly froze, one hand going to her stomach. Wash grinned as he reached over, and Vera smiled as the couple shared in their baby's movement.

Kaylee smiled. "Vera, why's he like bein' round Zo' so much?"

Vera passed another basket of fresh bread as she replied. "Found him when I was pregnant with Jayne, guess he's got a soft spot fer ladies in the family way."

Wash eyed him carefully. "You sure he isn't trying to steal my wife?"

Mattie was now sneaking his enormous head under River's elbow and resting it on her lap, eyes closing blissfully as she scratched his ears.

Vera narrowed her eyes. "Seems ta me he's fondest of yer girl there."

Rather than laughter the table seemed to grow tense, with only River's soft crooning filling the room. Book cleared his throat.

"Perhaps, now that we will be staying here a while, Simon should take a look at the littlest Washburne?"

The doctor nodded. "I'll get my bag and set up in your bedroom Zoe."

_Proximity concern. Male threat detected, initiate protocol immediately._

Mal moved to sit down on the other side of River when suddenly the sound of a plate smashing into the wall made everyone jump. River backed away from the table, wielding her bread knife with disquieting surety as she bared her teeth. She flung the knife in his direction, the Captain barely ducking out of the way as she tensed into battle stance.

She body was shaking and the eyes were dead, blank as they whipped around the room. Mal was standing far too close to Zoe, the knife had barely missed her, but any kind of movement was likely to set off a deadly assault. Simon saw the ancient spear mounted on the wall at the same time River did, and he rose just as she dived.

"Eta koorum na schmeck!"

"_River, please!"_

_A crate hurled across the cargo bay, he barely dived out of the way. Mal stood by, weapon in hand, face dark as he watched and waited for the doctor's orders._

_One of River's feet flew out to kick another crate into the wall, and she screamed. The sound rang through the ship, and Simon knew that this scream was different from the ones that had been echoing around the cargo bay._

_This one was a desperate plea, a fight._

_He moved closer, wary of the tension still gripping her muscles into battle stance. Another crate went flying as she fought to contain the violence to inanimate objects, and Mal noted that this one shattered a little less harshly than the others._

_A good sign._

_Simon took another step as she sunk to her knees, moving quickly to her side and wrapping his arms around her. The screaming died down into harsh, gulping sobs as she clung to him_

"_S-s-s-sorry, so sorry, can't help it, can't fight it, control and rage and too much…destroy and rip and tear and protect."_

"_Shhhh, _mei mei_, I understand. It's ok, just breathe."_

_She pressed her face into his neck and from her position at the other end of the room Inara rushed forwards. She quickly passed Simon's med bag, the portable scanner at hand. She gave River a protein bar, bottle of water, and knelt down with the wet towel. River slowly picked at the bar and gulped water as Inara cleaned blood of her bare feet, whispering low words of comfort. Simon ran the scanner over her abdomen, carefully checking for any signs of fetal distress._

_Tear filled brown eyes locked with Mal's. "She is sorry."_

_He nodded. "I know, darlin'. I am too."_

_As quickly as she had come Inara was forced to move back, eyes wet as she took the items to the back of the cargo bay once more. Mal stepped forwards as River's shoulder twitched, Simon looking into her eyes as they began to cloud over._

_Her voice was choked. "Love you."_

_River disappeared, the weapon returned, and Simon leapt backwards._

Mal caught her as she fell, and Inara rushed to her side. Mattie whined, lying on his stomach beside her with his ears flat, desperate to know why his new friend was sleeping.

Book was pale and Kaylee's eyes had filled with tears. For a few, brief hours they had felt safe. They had been fed, slept soundly, woke up in a place with filled with warmth. Their easy humour this morning, teasing the Captain and hiding the coffee, laughing as Mattie made River's eyes sparkle, sharing in the special moment when Wash's son kicked…it all vanished.

Suddenly their reality was far too familiar.

Their Reader was prone on the floor as her brother shook beside her, Mal's face looking dark and worried as Inara brought Simon's bag. Vera watched as they fell into what must have been a familiar pattern; Zoe looked frustrated and angry, obviously hating being unable to help with her pregnancy so far along. The Captain was struggling to keep Simon from breaking, and the doctor's adoption of the cool, professional persona he required to stay sane made Kaylee's sweet face sink.

Book's voice was low and cautious, though they all knew River wouldn't be waking up for at least a half hour. "Perhaps the Captain's closeness is what set her off?"

Simon nodded as he checked over her vitals. "Yes, I'm starting to think the presence of males is what leads to this…reaction."

Inara moved to wrap an arm around Kaylee, who was shaking as she watched her _bao bei _forced to leash his sister with the training that had broken her so badly.

Vera stood carefully, whistling once. Mattie's head snapped up and he bolted into the other room, returning with a pack. Nobody seemed to notice as Simon ran a shaking hand through his sister's hair.

"I can't…she's going to need to be doped. If she'd gotten to the spear…Mal you were standing right next to Zoe."

Vera watched as Zoe and Mal's eyes met, one of the first mate's hands clutched tightly in her husband's. Mattie stayed at Vera's side as she knelt beside Simon.

"You made me a promise."

He didn't look at her. "You…you don't know…when she wakes up it will be worse. She'll…" He could barely speak and Vera had a suspicion that he'd been forced to deal with this again and again.

She stood. "I ain't tryin' ta step on yer toes, Doc. But whatever yer doin' with her, ya know it ain't workin'. An' medicatin' her til she can't even stand…I don't think that's what yer wantin'." Simon couldn't argue as she looked at Ginger. "How's about ya take the rest o' the crew an' give 'em a look around town."

Mal shook his head. "Ain't a time fer sightseein'."

Vera looked at Zoe, who caught on. "She wants us to know the layout, sir."

Mal looked at Simon. "It's your call Doc."

He watched Vera, and she felt the fear in his every movement. "If my way don't work, ya can knock her out again."

He swallowed, wanting to argue that he wasn't knocking his sister out, wanting to fight the words. He wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to pretend that this ugly mess wasn't happening. He wanted to be alone, wanted to be drunk, wanted anything but to be forced to use the Academy's vile words to subdue River. He wanted anything but to reuse, reaffirm, reapply their training, their programming, for fear of strengthening its hold.

He nodded, once. "Ok. We'll try it your way."

She nodded, turning to the rest of the crew. At Ginger's gesture they began to slowly leave the room, each step seeming to cause them pain. Their eyes kept flitting to their fallen member, Wash's hand shaking as he helped up his wife, and Mal hung back.

He didn't look at Vera as he stepped forward, placing a gun in Simon's hand. The doctor slipped it into his waistband, and Vera saw both their hearts splinter a little, some old memory passing between them.

Finally they were alone, and she turned to him. "We're going to need to move her, you'll have ta do the carryin'."

He looked wary, and Vera understood. "Forest at the back o' the house; she can run, hunt with Mattie, burn off some o' the energy in her own time. You'll see."

He bent to pick her up but Vera stopped him. "One more thing."

She pinned him with a stare that only mothers were capable producing.

"How long til my Grandbaby is born?"


	24. Chapter 24

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

Simon panted. Nobody could ever accuse River of being heavy, but he wondered how much further Vera was going to make them walk. The twenty minutes of gruelling movement that she had demanded were starting to catch up with him, and he struggled to maintain his speed.

For her part Vera didn't seem even close to winded, small figure striding across the rocky forest floor. Mattie was keeping up with her easily, long legs eating up ground, unhindered by the packs she had slung over his back.

"_How long til my Grandbaby is born?"_

_Simon gulped and she shook her head carefully. "No need ta fret, Doc. Just need a date.""_

_He stuttered nervously. "S-s-seven and a half months."_

_She nodded as the he waited, and she rolled her eyes. "Had enough girls in my care ta know when one is protectin' a child."_

_She didn't say another word as she stood and expected him to follow._

His sister shifted in his arms and he looked up. "Vera? We don't have much time before—"

"Calm down Doc, ain't much farther now."

She was right. The rounded another thick thatch of trees and came to an opening. The forest ended, leaving only a wide, barren desert. The heat, previously muted by the many trees, now soaked into his skin. His white shirt and plain slack were fine, and he had been bullied by Kaylee into buying boots a long time ago, but he wasn't prepared for the weather.

_Ma de_, how did anyone survive in this heat? The cathouse had been air-conditioned, the forest hadn't told him the full story, but this?

Vera smiled as she looked out. "Beautiful, ain't it?"

He stared. "It's…very stark."

He was right. Red rock, the occasional huge boulder, and far in the distance he thought he saw the glint of water, though it could have been the sun's harsh rays. Dust was kicked up where a herd of brumbies were galloping across the plain, the occasional thatch of scraggly trees breaking up the otherwise barren land. Vera approached him, wordlessly showing him where to lay River down, and she met his eyes carefully.

"Stark…that's the point. It's open. Nowhere to hide."

Somehow Simon knew she wasn't talking about them being the ones to hide. He looked out again. Nowhere for someone to sneak up, no place for things that went bump in the night to conceal themselves. The violent sun stripped away any semblance of cover; there was no place for evil to secrete itself.

He felt something loosen in his chest.

Vera nodded, grabbing the packs from Mattie. "Ok, when yer girl wakes up be ready; from what y'all say she's gonna want ta move."

Simon thought about how little that described what River was likely to do when she woke up. As if the safe words triggered some kind of mixture between her normal self and the training; she would be furious, violent, beyond aggressive…and penitent. It would be agonising.

Vera poured some of her water into the hat she held, making sure Mattie had a few large gulps before flicking a couple of droplets on River's face.

Simon's eyes widened as his sister suddenly snapped to life, kipping to her feet and turning with a snarl. The jacket she had taken to wearing on their cooler ship slid from her shoulders, only a white tank and black shorts protecting her from the hot sun.

_Range proximity, two targets acquired. Use of safe phrase represents threat, eliminate immediately._

Simon held out his hands as if to calm her but Vera whistled sharply. River turned, eyes blazing as she locked on a target. One foot slipped underneath a fallen branch and flipped it into her hand, now a weapon. She spun it with enough force to sting the air, lowering into battle stance.

_Annihilate lesser target and keep medical personnel for information extraction. _

Vera didn't look away from the animalistic snarling as she clicked her fingers. "Mattie, run."

Mattie bolted and the movement caught River's eye, drawing her attention to the wide open space.

_So much space._

She bolted after the dog, feet eating up the ground, stick falling from her hand as she kept up the movement. Mattie pushed, veering into a wide circle, River following him and gaining ground. He bolted into the forest and Simon called out as his sister followed, disappearing into the trees.

_Run, chase, capture. Feet hitting hard rocks and wind whipping through hair and trees acting as obstacles to be tackled with climbing and leaping. _

_Push harder, push faster. Reflexes at peak condition, air content non-recycled, fresh, 99% purity. Clean dirt, scorching heat, the thrill of the chase._

_Freedom._

Vera placed a hand on his arm. "Don't you worry, Mattie'll look after her. It's all that energy…she's gotta run it off, gotta take it out on somethin'. Everytime she fights it...it'll get easier. But she can't control it, not without an outlet."

Simon was shaking but the logic behind her words was fairly sound. He wanted to scream, pull at his hair, tell her it was ridiculous to let an 18 year old pregnant girl go bolting into the woods and through the harsh desert with only a dog to protect her.

But somehow he knew that was wrong.

The fits, the psychotic episodes…so often she tried to fight it, smashing crates and destroying metalwork in an effort to channel the aggression that was so deeply ingrained in her psyche. Vera perched easily on a rock, and Simon realized a tiny stream was trickling from the forest into a pool behind her. The water was so blue he could see straight to the bottom, wildflowers growing around the edge in little, haphazard clusters.

She smiled. "Purgatum gets a bad rap, it ain't all shined an' polished like no Core planet. But iffen ya look, real careful, you'll see it's all the more beautiful."

Simon thought of Kaylee, grease stained and guileless as she smiled, unashamedly naked in his little bunk, and he knew what Vera was talking about.

He sat down heavily. "I don't…what if something happens to her?"

Vera shrugged. "Then Mattie drags her back an' ya fix her again."

Too simple. Far too simple.

He studied Vera. She was turning her olive skinned face toward the sun, closing intense blue eyes. The lean form was encased in a pair of khaki shorts and a loose fitting tank, sturdy boots on her feet. With the relaxed smile on her face it was easy to see years slipping away, leaving behind the young woman she must have been when Jayne was still about.

Somehow she looked like she fit in against this rough landscape.

Simon thought back to whenever they were on harsher Outer planets. Jayne would always walk faster, breathe deeper, go for runs whenever he wasn't plundering the local cathouse. There would be a lightness to his face that wasn't normally there, blue eyes taking in the barren landscapes with obvious pleasure.

Vera looked at him carefully. "So…you're gonna be an uncle."

Simon choked on the water he was sipping, suddenly faced with something he hadn't even considered yet. An uncle…he was going to have a little niece or nephew. He sputtered as Vera smiled at him.

"I hadn't thought about that just yet."

Vera nodded. "No, guess you hadn't."

Simon ran a hand through his hair. "I…I thought you would be angr-"

"Does Jayne know?"

Simon shook his head. "I haven't been able to tell him…the last time we spoke…I think something is happening to him."

She studied the dark forest where their wards were going wild. "Yer sister says he's payin' penance."

Simon stared at the red soil. Paying penance, making amends for his crime. Simon knew what he was doing; finding out anyone and everyone who was involved in whatever this mess was and taking them down in a blaze of hellfire. The man he had seen at the Longshore Inn was not the man he had spent so long on ship with; it was a man who knew, without a doubt, that he was damned.

Mal's promise rang in his ears.

_"When yer done, when ya find what yer lookin' fer, ya head ta Purgatum. Ya hear what she has ta say."_

_Mal leaned in close. "An' then I'll pull the trigger myself."_

Jayne hadn't argued. He'd looked relieved.

Simon looked up at Vera. "He thinks…after what happened he wants…"

Vera shook her head. "I don't wanna know."

Simon blinked. This was not what he had expected. This woman had taken them in, made them know they were welcome, brought him here to let his sister run feral rather than be forced to fight off her training or face injuring her crew. This woman had listened to their tale last night with calm eyes that flashed darkly.

How could she not care?

As if she heard the thought Vera narrowed her eyes. "Whatever he thinks he's doin', he's got answers ta find. An' without 'em he'll never…he needs ta know he's paid his debts."

Simon stared. "So, you believe he has a debt to pay?"

Vera looked down into the little spring running over her feet. "I believe he believes he does…an' the only person who could tell him otherwise is fightin' the forest jus' ta keep from hurtin' her crew."

Simon tugged at his ear. "We saw him…after...he said he couldn't be near her, that he couldn't not hurt her again."

Vera's eyes closed in on his shoulder and before he could ask what she was doing she had stood, whipping up a thin stick and flicking it over his shirt. He stared at the spider now raising its legs threateningly a few feet from him, glistening black body larger than his hand, violent red stripe cutting a line down its abdomen.

That thing had been on his shoulder.

Don't vomit…whatever you do don't vomit.

Vera strode forward, stomping down quickly. She looked back at Simon.

"Iffen he thinks he might hurt her, there's no way he'll be comin' ta y'all willingly."

Simon stared at the mashed remains. "What was that?"

She sat back down. "Red back. Venom is a neurotoxin; came from earth-that-was an' like so many things on Purgatum it mutated inta somethin' a lil scarier."

Simon continued to stare as he spoke. "I spent over a year on that ship with Jayne, I fought beside him, I've had my life saved by him. I've seen him angry but I never thought he could-"

"You haven't."

He blinked. "_Shen me?_"

Vera pulled out two apples from her pack. "You ain't seen him angry."

He watched her. "You're saying…you're saying that if he wanted to, he has always been capable of-"

"_Bi zui_! I ain't sayin' no such thin'…I'm only sayin' ya ain't seen him angry."

She picked up the heavy cargo jacket that River had left with them, running her hands over patched bullet holes, thick material, ancient stains and signs of wear.

"Jayne loved growin' up here."

Simon snorted. "In a cathouse? I believe you?"

Vera had the grace to chuckle. "That's my boy. Always had too much drive, too much energy. Had to find outlets, find ways to burn it off. When the huntin' wasn't doin' it…well, he's lucky he grew up where he did."

Simon swallowed uncomfortably. "He…"

She smiled. "I've been livin' at the House of Night since I was 13 doctor; no boy o' mine grew up a prude. An' the girls…well they loved him. Used ta cheer him on when he sparred with the townsfolk, an' when he got too big an' scary fer that they helped him find other ways ta burn off the energy."

Simon wasn't entirely sure of what he should say to a mother talking about her son's sex drive.

Vera didn't seem to mind. "He worked, don't get me wrong. Any dirty chore, any fixin' the house needed, any time a girl had a private party ta attend she never went without a fully armed escort. He worked hard. Always had fresh game, always kept our home safe. They loved him, an' he loved all o' them. When Ginger's shoulder played up he'd brush her hair for her, an' when the other girls decided they wanted the same treatment he was more'n happy ta oblige."

She looked at him, eyes filled with memories. "Jayne ever tell y'all why he left?"

Simon shook his head, waiting as she continued.

"He was always big; by 14 he was at least six foot, an' still growin'. There were…well he always had the violence inside'a him. But he was mine, an' he grew up in the cathouse. Any girl in there, past and present, will tell ya nuthin' but good 'bout my boy."

She went silent for a moment before finding her voice again. "Day before he left was Unification Day. Out here we don't really care 'bout all that; Independent, Alliance, all jus' people who wanted ta control us. But it was a day fer celebratin'. We used ta put Jayne ta work in the kitchen, gave him somethin' ta do when the forests got quiet from all the huntin'. It was a great day, all the girls helped, spent the mornin' laughin' an' jokin'."

Her eyes grew dark.

"Back then the Mayor still hadn't quite figured out what people round here know now…if one o' my girls ain't willin', then there'll be no trade. An' when the Mayor an' his cronies showed up they was all ready fer a good time, liquored ta the gills, an' starin' down my girls like they was meat."

She ran a hang through long black curls. "He wasn't takin' no fer an answer, an' when he said some nasty stuff ta me…well, Jayne ain't never taken too kindly ta bad behaviour."

_Spitting on a whetstone as he took it to a knife._

_Leering at Inara, begging for sexy stories._

_Arm slung around a whore on Nandi's moon._

Vera read his expression easily and smirked. "Jus' cuz they ain't what you'd call standard manners don't mean he ain't got 'em."

Simon blushed as she kept talking. "Jayne…disagreed with the Mayor's methods. Violently. When another man tried to take Katya he…well there wasn't much left of any of them. Lawmen came, we tried to cover fer him, but he didn't want 'em hasslin' us. Turned himself over, asked for one night before he got put down…slipped away."

Simon released a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

The previously memory clouded eyes became sharp. "Tell me, does that sound like a man who grew up ta start rapin' teenage girls?"

* * *

He arrived on Halo, slipping silently off the ship and into the night. Isis had given him plenty of documents that might as well have been written in a dead language for all he understood. He needed to find a wave.

"_Both know all the locks are sealed, only way she could get in there is if she knew the combination."_

"_I don't leave my guns around Mal and I don't leave 'em loaded!"_

_How could the Captain not believe him? Did Mal think he'd just decided to drop Jamie on the floor of the cargo bay and toddle off for tea?_

"_Well somehow she got her hands on your hardware, now supposing she took up something with hull piercin' bullets?"_

_He ignored the hardware comment with an uneasy feeling a disquiet, turning instead to the only knowledge he had._

"_Bullets're soft lead Mal, even Vera couldn't barely breach the hull; she's the best I got. Now, let's move this conversation in a 'not Jayne's fault direction? I didn't make her crazy, hell I didn't even want her on the ship."_

_Mal turned and got into his face._

"_Is that the direction you want this conversation to go in?"_

_It wasn't._

_Of course it wasn't_

"_Just don't wanna take a lashin' fer somethin' I ain't the cause of."_

As he moved through the quiet streets he wondered where these memories kept coming from. He knew he had information, knew he had somewhere to send it…but the thoughts? When had he ever…

He hadn't, he knew that.

There was no past.

There was only this.

Movement, information.

And blood.

Penance.

He found a pharmacy and smashed through the window, ignoring the glass that cut into his bare arm. He leapt through, locating the wave easily. A cortex system, one he knew he needed to leave the information with.

Punching in a ship code without thinking.

**The cortex system you have requested is unattended. Please leave your information or try again later.**

Somewhere in his chest he felt relief, but he wasn't sure why.

He entered the data discs, waiting until the information downloaded before withdrawing them and destroying them. He moved out the shattered window, slipping away through the streets. He turned a corner and froze. The gang was large, at least ten men, and from the grins on their faces they thought they'd found a good target.

"_Most people are pretty quiet about now. Me, I see a stiff an' I jus' get the urge ta…I dunno, do stuff."_

His eyebrow quirked as his blood pounded. He moved silently into the light, and couldn't help the cold grin that crossed his face as they froze. Perhaps months ago he would have wondered why the sight of his face brought about that kind of fear when he wasn't holding his Callahan. Perhaps it would have reflected on the blankness of his eyes, the cruel twist to his mouth, the way his stubble was as unkempt as the scruffy hair.

Perhaps it would have wondered what had happened to him that left his eyes so dead.

Perhaps…

He smirked.

"_Like, work out, or run around, maybe get some trim iffen there's a willin' woman about. Not that I get flush about corpses or anythin', I ain't crazy."_

He tossed the bag of credits carelessly in the air, catching them again as he strode away. It was a good haul. Enough for more reminders, more markings, enough for some more ammunition. But he was going to need more cash if he wanted to keep this up.

As he moved out of the alley he wondered briefly when the screams had died down.

* * *

The assistant sidled up to him as he flicked fingers over charts rapidly. The girl was plain but not unattractive, and still green enough to occasionally feel guilty when required to issue the medications.

"Sir?"

He waited patiently.

"Sir, she said to make sure you got these. Said they could be helpful."

He glanced over the clear data sheets she passed him, figures whizzing over them. Genetic markers, signatures, indicators of compatibility. He looked at the girl.

"You know what this means?"

She shook her head. "No sir."

He smiled. "It means we can begin anew."

She nodded and left, still unsure of his exact meaning. No matter, he had enough experienced staff that one silly girl wasn't a problem. He flicked his eyes over another sheet.

So, they were being hunted.

He smiled. No matter, he still had a few tricks up his sleeves. And nobody, especially not some rogue Breeder, was going to stop his plans.


	25. Chapter 25

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

Mal watched his crew as Ginger gave them the tour. A few of Vera's girls had decided to come along, stocking up on necessities as they walked with the crew. The townsfolk were anything but welcoming, and he had a feeling that had as much to do with their tour guide as the crew itself. Despite the cool stares they were nonetheless polite.

Extremely polite.

Almost to a fault.

He kept to the back, taking in the town of Inferno. The House of Night had been easy to locate on the outskirts, backing onto the wild forest and desert farther out. He was trying not to think about his medic and Reader and whatever they were doing. Simon was armed, that was the best he could do as far as controlling the situation went.

There was a sprawling marketplace, several eateries, and a bookstore that his shepherd had eyed eagerly. This wasn't Purgatum's largest town, but it had the most crime per capita of anywhere on the planet. They passed multiple brothels, and Mal couldn't help but notice the disrepair, the strung out men and women who attempted half-hearted catcalls to entice customers.

Ginger moved beside him. "Not all places run like ours does."

He nodded. "I can see that."

He looked at her sideways. "How come folk here are so polite ta ya?"

Ginger smirked. "You've met Mattie, right."

He nodded, understanding. "Ah, well then."

Kaylee was darting around the place, apparently unfazed by the heat as she dragged around an amused Inara from stall to stall. The docks were only a few hours away, so wares were sold from whatever vessels brave enough to use Purgatum for refuelling.

Mal suddenly saw Zoe's step falter. Wash turned back, eyes wide and concerned, and Ginger called out to the two girls with the.

"Sarah, Mina, run back and get the house ready!"

As his first mate began to breathe heavily Mal sent out a prayer to the 'verse that his medic was still intact enough to deliver the baby.

* * *

_Running, running, running._

_Laughter, unfamiliar until she realizes it's hers._

_Her lungs are tightening, her limbs aching, she stops to dive into the deep stream. Her namesake is cool and refreshing, her friend splashing happily beside her._

_Control._

_The aggression has lessened, forced into temporary remission by her exploits, and suddenly there is a light breaking through the darkness of the trees._

_Will not last forever, will only be short term, but the resources are there._

_She is gaining something back._

Mattie barked happily and she nodded, moving out of the cool water and back into the humidity of the forest, walking briskly back to where her brother's mind was radiating concern.

Simon turned as a wet hand slid over his neck, startled to see River smiling at him. "Found you."

He stared. "And…and you."

She laughed at him, the free, tinkling sound warming his stomach. He looked over to Vera, who nodded.

"That's one point fer me."

He stood and they began the walk back to the house. The heat felt like a sauna, his limbs were aching from their journey, and the arm he slung around his sister's shoulders wasn't just for the pleasure of contact.

And yet…Simon thought he'd never felt lighter.

The house was in sight, and Simon wondered why a brothel looked like the most comfortable place on earth. River stopped suddenly, and he felt his heart sink when her eyes clouded. The moment didn't last, however, and she shot him a wide grin.

"Starting."

"What?" He looked at her curiously before hearing a scream ring through the house. "Oh, OH! Starting!"

He took off at a run, River hot on his heels with Mattie as Vera brought up the rear.

She smiled. Getting closer.

* * *

_Blood._

His wife clutched at his hand and he bit down on his tongue to keep from saying something dumb.

_So much blood._

Simon worked furiously, carefully.

_So much screaming._

The Captain barking out orders and being immediately whacked over the back of the head by an irritated Ginger.

_Echoing through the room like banshee cries._

_More than one voice._

Kaylee worriedly asking what was wrong, was she going to be ok.

And then…

_Silence._

_The heaviest silence he had ever heard._

_The kind of silence that froze time, crystallized moments._

_The kind of silence he would remember for the rest of his life._

_And then there was only one voice, the piercing howl filling the enclosed space._

_And then his beautiful wife lay back exhausted._

_And then Simon turned to him with something small and squirmy in his arms._

_And then he had everything._

* * *

Outside the Captain had finally ceased his anxious pacing when Zoe had threatened to shoot him and meant it. Kaylee was sitting on Simon's lap, the doctor looking exhausted as Ginger passed around hot tea and fresh baked rolls. River was sitting cross legged on the floor, Mattie's head in her lap as Book brought her some tea. At her radiant smile the shepherd paused, fighting back a tear of happiness at the unfamiliar yet oh-so-missed sight.

Vera looked out over the exhausted crew. Unlike yesterday, this exhaustion was tinged with relief, with hope, with joy. The Reader was leaning against Mattie, tuckered out after her big day, but her eyes remained clear and she was smiling as she snuggled into warm black fur.

Simon pressed his cheek into Kaylee's shoulder as Mal stood again. Before he could begin pacing once more Inara placed her hand on his arm, and both froze for a moment as a million unsaid words passed between them.

Vera perched on the table where Ginger was leaning. Her old friend and mentor smiled.

"You're enjoying your full house, aren't you?"

She nodded. "They'll heal. They might not know it yet, but they will."

* * *

Wash looked into alien eyes in a tiny face. Mocha skin contrasted starkly with bright blue eyes, a smattering of freckles across the bridge of the nose, tiny hands and feet wrapped tightly in swaddling clothes.

He knew what he had to do to placate the creature.

"Do not fear me! Ours is a peaceful race, and we must live in harmony."

Zoe rolled her eyes. "Honey, put the baby down."

He wouldn't. She knew he wouldn't, and she didn't mind. He sat carefully, stretching out beside her in the bed. The screaming, the blood…and then the perfection. He kept his son clutched tightly to his chest, the tiny baby peering out warily as his mother gave a tired sigh.

"If I fall asleep are you going to start talking to him about dinosaurs?"

A pause.

"Almost certainly."

She smiled and pressed her nose into his shoulder, running one hand over their baby boy. Neither spoke, neither could find the words. How to describe it? Suddenly every fight, every battle, every moment of fear and terror melted away. Suddenly they had something incredible looking back at them. Zoe looked up at him and he couldn't help it. He leaned down to press a kiss against her forehead.

"Thank you."

She smiled. "Likewise."

They both looked at their little one and a thought occurred to Wash. "You know…we're going to have to name him."

She nodded. "Yes…" Her eyes were drooping. "Later…"

In the small room, with the shutters drawn, Zoe fell asleep against her husband's shoulder. One of his arms wrapped around her, the other holding tightly onto the baby dozing against his chest. The room was very still, very quiet, and Wash felt a single tear slip down his cheek.

Because somehow this tiny little room held his entire world.

* * *

He looked at the factory. It wasn't the place of his nightmares, that silent graveyard that somehow echoed with screams only hours old.

_The walk back to the ship felt like the longest he had ever taken. Each step, each movement, brought him closer to the end. She was feather light in his arms, jacket doing little to conceal the ugly marks, the bruises, the violent and terrible story he'd told her body._

This place was brightly lit and the inside packed with people. Drunken cheers rang through the night, and he stalked forward.

Payment.

Peter loved fight night. The bareknuckle boxing ring was heavily underground, one of Halo's best kept secrets. Which meant that the rules were…lax…to say the least. Last week Tim Hodgkin's had almost lost an eye.

Just excellent.

Plus, as a bonus, Galaticus was on tonight. The dark skinned giant always made for good entertainment; at seven foot tall and over three hundred pounds he knew how to stir up a crowd. There was always someone, a newcomer, who would think they could fell the giant. The bets were enormous, bookies making their way through the crowd as credits were thrown around.

Galaticus slammed the latest fool to step into the ring onto the ground with a sickening crunch. The man had been big, he'd been fast.

Galaticus was bigger.

Galaticus was faster.

And Galaticus always loved a challenge.

Mike Soo grabbed the mic. "Is there anyone else?" The crowd roared. "Will anyone else _dare _step into the ring with over three hundred pounds of ugly death?"

"_I got to know how close the Alliance is, exactly how much ya told 'em 'fore Wash scrambled your call. So I've given Jayne here the job of findin' out."_

"_He was non-specific as to how."_

Cackles and catcalls echoed around the room but the stranger's voice still echoed easily.

"I'm up."

The crowd quieted and turned towards the newcomer. Big guy, at least six four, he was wearing the green cargos and combat boots so often favoured by mercenaries. But it was his chest that drew their attention.

"_I like watching the game. As with other situations the key seems to be giving Jayne a heavy stick and standing back."_

A heavy silver chain was locked around his neck. He was bare, broad shoulders and flexing biceps, and half his chest was covered in black tattoos, swirling markers seared over his left side. They extended up one arm, a solid sleeve of black lines, and over onto his back. Amongst the lines and patterns were chinese characters, names alongside coordinates. Peter thought he spotted a location coord from Osiris, another unfamiliar one, and one for a town not far from here. The characters were all the same, one word locked alongside its corresponding co-ordinates: debt. On his other arm there was a dragon curling around a yin and yang symbol, which seemed to encase two letters: MA. Across his back the broad shoulders were marked with a single word in thick, spiked lettering.

_**SERENITY**_

Peter smirked, nudging Karl in the gut as the bookies grinned. The crowd roared, bloodthirsty and hot with alcohol, throwing around huge bets as the stranger moved into the ring. Galaticus grinned, turning to the crowd.

"Y'all up fer a show?"

The answering din would echo over the walls for days to come.

"_I'm just trying to remember how many miracles you've performed."_

"_I once hit a guy in the neck from five hundred yards with a bent scope…don't that count upstairs?"_

Peter was reaching into his pocket when he suddenly saw something. The man's face, previously concealed by the shadows in the darkened factory, was now visible. Rough stubble trailed along gaunt cheekbones, darkly tanned skin indicating a great deal of time spent outside.

And the eyes.

Peter had seen wolves before, the rabid ones that ended up throwing themselves into frays with other animals, tearing and destroying until they were so burned out that a killing blow tore the look from their faces. In the few seconds before they attacked those eyes would look blank to the untrained observer. To anyone who knew what they were looking for…those eyes would hold the deadly, swirling darkness, the violence to come, simmering under the surface and then breaking free.

"_Sir, I know she's unpredictable. But I don't think she'd harm anyone."_

"_Butcher's knife!"_

"_Anyone we can't spare."_

Peter took his hand from his pocket, shaking his head at the bookie.

He wasn't betting today.

Jayne ignored the sounds of the bloodthirsty crowd.

"_You don't pay me ta talk pretty."_

_This is what you are. These are the memories. The muscle, the gun hand, the mercenary. As expendable as a million others of your kind._

_You are only worth your last kill._

_Nothing more._

_Red. Simmering under the surface, willing to wait for its moment, the target acquired, locked, loaded. _

_His mind raced._

_Opponent._

_Slight hitch in left side, unhealed knife wound that still ached. Barely there wheezing to the breathing; massive frame supporting massive bulk. No sign of concealed weapon, knuckles bruised from previous fights._

_Advantage: weight._

_Left jab to right cheek will wind. Fast weave, roundhouse to left hip playing on knife wound damage. Backhand to shatter right cheekbone, dive, fast roll. _

_Neck snap._

His mind cleared.

His blood was crackling and he let the energy take over, let it rend from the room what it wanted, let it tear through. Body raging, desperate to fulfil its purpose, relishing every second of the one sided battle.

As the sickening snap echoed through the now silent room Peter thought he was glad he'd saved his cash.

Jayne slipped out the back, pocket full of winnings and soul free of guilt.

Animals had no need for guilt.

He pulled his duffel bag from the dumpster he'd stashed it behind, swinging onto the roof of a much emptier factory.

_A battleground, a place of loss._

Factories gave him a strange feeling, a twistiness in his gut.

He ignored it.

The credits went into the bag. Plenty, enough for ammo, rations, and to get him on another ship when he needed to. He reached in, performing the fast, efficient checks he'd performed on every weapon and every case of ammo for as long as he could remember. He hadn't always been doing this, he was fairly sure of that.

When he reached in his hand hit something it hadn't hit in a long time. He pulled out the box, narrowing his eyes as he rifled through the contents. A ripped t-shirt, several captures that he refused to look at properly. He sniffed at the t-shirt.

_His eyes blazed as he looked at her._

_Heat._

_Bodies locked, blood and sweat sticking to skin._

_Screaming._

_The scent, the smell, filling his lungs and sending him into the darkness. His sin, his debt to be repaid, his blood to collect again and again._

The fight had eased the lust for blood, but his body screamed for more. To take, the tear, to rip, to dominate.

He shoved the t-shirt back in the box. It wasn't useless; it wasn't stupid to keep it around.

It was necessary.

It was the reminder.

"_I owe her blood."_


	26. Chapter 26

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

"_We meddle."_

"_River."_

"_People don't like to be meddled with. We tell them what to do, what to think. Don't run, don't walk. We're in their homes and in heads and we haven't the right. We're meddlesome."_

She woke, sweat cooling on her skin. The movement startled her sleeping companion, and she reached out a hand without looking to stroke soft black fur. A gentle whuff against her hand, a barely there nipping of teeth across the pads of her fingers. A reassurance, a reminder.

The house was silent this early in the morning. There was no light hum of laughter, flirting murmurs on the lower levels. There wasn't the sound of her family outside, working in the garden, upgrading water systems, hunting.

She slipped out of bed silently.

She wasn't the only one awake. As she stepped into the lounge the warrior woman didn't look up, keeping up the gentle rocking that was holding the baby quiet, lulling him back to sleep. River placed one hand against her own stomach, swollen now, tiny life inside growing every day.

Zoe flashed her a smile but didn't say a word.

Little needed to be said.

_Wash sighed. "Ok, fine, not Rex…Tyrone?"_

_She sighed. "And his full name would be?"_

_He grinned sheepishly. "Uh…Tryone-asaurus?"_

_Zoe laughed. "Absolutely not."_

_He looked down at their son. Bright blue eyes stared back at him, and he got that same familiar feeling that he would never do anything quite as important as creating this life. Next to him Zoe shifted, running one hand over their baby's back, thinking._

"_It needs to be…well it can't be somethin'…this is hard."_

_He nodded. "Creating him? Easy as hell."_

_She laughed and couldn't help agreeing. "Indeed…"_

_They were interrupted when River entered trailed by Mattie. The two were relatively inseparable, and when he wasn't trailing River he had an eye for their newborn son. At first Zoe had refused flatly to let the enormous dog anywhere near their baby, but when he'd lowered onto his belly and shot her the saddest eyes she'd ever seen, she had felt like breaking. _

_Vera had sealed the deal. "Zo', if he's good enough ta run with River an' help me raise my boy, he's good enough ta say howdy ta yours."_

_Zoe hadn't been able to argue, though anyone could see that she wanted to. At the first hint of acceptance he'd bounded over, carefully sniffing at the little one. For his part the youngest Washburne had been delighted, pulling at whiskers and blinking happily. Which is why when Mattie approached while River went to find Simon, Zoe didn't blink._

_He nuzzled carefully at the baby's rear, suddenly sitting back and sneezing with an expression of disgust._

_Wash laughed. "Yeah, he does need a change."_

_River floated over, bending to sit on her knees beside her companion. She ran a pale hand gently over the baby's back, cooing softly before looking at Zoe._

"_A gift. Gift from the divine, shard of light after the darkness of the silent planet. Such a special gift."_

_Zoe didn't answer, looking down at Mattie thoughtfully. Wash suddenly followed her thought pattern, and looked down at his son._

"_Do we dare?"_

_Zoe took the baby and looked into his blue eyes. "Matthew Washburne."_

_For the first time in his life the baby shot them a smile. _

_The nappy change had been less sweet, but the name stuck. When they'd told Vera she'd excused herself, and Wash could have sworn he saw her eyes watering._

She moved past her brother's room, feeling warm thoughts and warmer bodies refusing to be awoken just yet. The scent of strawberries was the only hint of his roommate, but River had been pleased when Book had decided another room would suit him better.

_He held the little band of metal out like some kind of shield, and knew if she refused it no amount of armour would guard his heart. He swallowed nervously, Kaylee's face frozen in shock before the sun came out, lighting every corner of his heart._

"_Yes, yes I will."_

_Engagement, a rite of passage, a signal of the future._

_Joy._

Another room, this one warm with dreams.

_She adjusted the bed spread, rolling her eyes when she heard the door open._

_She knew who it was._

"_I know this is not my shuttle, but does a closed door not warrant a simple knock before intrusion?"_

_She turned, waiting for the bite back, but grey eyes just held hers carefully. The ghost of a smile twitched at his lips and suddenly she felt very warm, as if the room had shrunk, as if someone had turned up the heat._

_He took a step forward. "Seems my first mate has it in her head that a lil party is in order. Somethin' about finally decidin' on a name fer our littlest crewmember."_

_Inara nodded carefully. "Yes, tonight looks like it should be fun. Vera said we're having a feast."_

_Mal was silent for a moment before running a hand over his head. "I'm in need of yer…services."_

_She quirked a brow, watching as he blushed. "Now, don't be like that, ain't like ya practice that no more anyway. No…lil Kaylee was kind enough ta point out that I'm in need of a haircut."_

_She fought her jaw's desire to drop. She blinked a few times, and he smirked at her. "Think you could be of assistance?"_

_She nodded, gesturing for him to sit in a nearby chair. She moved quickly, trimming carefully, leaning in front of him to make sure both sides were even._

_When her eyes moved from his hair to his face he was staring at her._

"_I think that looks good."_

_He nodded, silent for a second before moving. His hands snapped out, the movement making her drop the scissors and comb, pulling her into his lap so her legs were forced either side of his hips._

_She couldn't move, heart racing, and he seemed to have the same predicament. At least, for a moment._

_Then he moved, his mouth met hers, and for the split second before their lips touched she wondered what on earth had taken them so long._

_Before her brain could soundly explain exactly everything that had been in their way from the day they met until this moment, he kissed her._

_Hours later they left the room, blushing and smiling, to find a grinning Wash smirking, his son held in his arms. Before he could open his mouth the Captain's hand had gone for his side arm. Across the room Zoe had shot him a warning glare and Inara had blushed more deeply, and loved every second of it._

_The Captain had come into her room that day without an invitation._

_He had stayed ever since without asking for one._

_Book took over the now empty suite._

_And Inara smiled._

River turned away from the private memory as it began to take a much slower, more sensual turn. She was unwilling to delve into those memories, the ones that came from dreams and slowly entered the waking world with soft sighs and careful, lazy touches. She had no need for them, didn't want to see them.

Didn't want to compare them.

_He growls and she sighs and when his hands tighten over her narrow hips a tear slips from her eye._

_One hand is tangled in her hair as the other anchors her to him, pulling her against his chest and leaving her own hands to grip desperately at the wooden pole as if it could save them both._

_Her eyes flash and training takes over._

_She manages to bring an elbow back, knocking him hard in the jaw and sending him flying. He wipes blood from the corner of his mouth, spits on the dusty ground as he advances again. They both know the outcome, know that all the training in the world is little match for programming and brute strength._

_They both know that he will win again tonight._

_And despite the pain, the fear, the confusion…she lets him._

Her eyes close involuntarily as the wave of feeling sweeps over her. Suddenly a kick in her stomach brings her back to the world, and she runs a grateful hand over her swollen abdomen. She turned as Book emerged from his room, a towel over his neck as he moved for the bathroom. He nodded in greeting, flashing her a smile.

_Warm, rich laughter echoing around the house._

_A grandchild to ease pain, to heal the hurt that Haven's massacre had created._

His soul wounds were deep but healing, and as he spends his nights delightedly amusing Matthew, as he spends his days watching her stomach grow, she knows he discovers something he never knew he wanted. A large brown hand was the second to feel a kick, and his eyes had watered at the shared moment.

_"First hello, grandpa."_

"_I never married." _

_"Still a grandpa."_

_He hadn't been able to argue with that. Matthew had chosen the moment to throw up on his shoulder._

Her companion brushed against her arm, moving lazily to his mistress' room. Clear thought echo around her, protective and intensely loyal. Willing to run with the violence, to push her, to let her come back to herself around the only male in the 'verse who didn't set off her training. Any human instinct would suggest that the size, the huge canine's, the sharp intelligence were a greater threat.

They would be wrong.

The lady of the house was awake, she was so very often, and she met him at the door. As she did every single morning she scratched his ears, turned on the coffee brewer, and went downstairs to begin the day's business.

And, as she did every morning, she stopped to place a hand gently against River's stomach, watching carefully to see how lucid the brown eyes would be.

Yesterday had been a good day, the day before had required some time spent outside.

As she looked into those eyes Vera wondered what today would hold.

_Mal ignored the beer Vera set on the table near him. The house was silent, the crew in their rooms, but there were words to be had._

_She sipped at her own drink. "You got a plan?"_

_He shook his head. "Not yet. Gotta head back ta the ship soon, see iffen he's left us a wave."_

_She nodded. "He won't wave here. Y'all're gonna have to check back regular, or redirect your messages."_

_He finally picked up the beer, taking a grateful swig. "Best not; Serenity's a clean wave, no tracers. Wouldn't want anyone ta pick up on a redirect. Besides…I gotta check on my boat."_

_She could see he missed it, could see how torn he was. His crew were finding some measure of safety, of comfort. They were healing, and he was too. _

"_Y'all need time."_

_He sighed. "Ain't that the truth…"_

_She sipped at her drink. "Got plenty o' jobs around this place need doin', there's work ta be done iffen y'all're willin'. Ain't no time limits Captain, yer not on the clock. Need ta realize that."_

_He nodded, sighing. "Last time we went to collect the waves there were just more documents…Simon's siftin' through 'em as best he can."_

_Her eyes clouded and he wondered what secret she was hiding. Before he could ask she stood. "He leave any clues as ta his whereabouts?"_

"_No more'n we can glean from the data files…he don't wanna be found."_

_She nodded. "Then it'll be mighty hard ta find him."_

_He wondered if he should tell her the end game, wondered if she should know that her son would eventually be coming here to pay his final debt and finish his journey. He wondered if he should tell her that it would be his bullet that ceased Jayne's life; he had made a promise, and he would honour it._

_He didn't say a word._

They had set times, set specific days. The journey back to the ship was dangerous, but the whole crew insisted on taking it regularly. They needed to feel their home, check for signs of damage or wear, remind themselves that this comfort they were finding in the heart of the harshest planet in the system was not the only reality.

Wave days were always fraught with tension.

Largely because they never knew if they would be there at exactly the right time, and see their missing mercenary.

* * *

"_He didn't lie down. They never lie down."_

He knew he'd been on the planet for a while. Which didn't help him, since he wasn't entirely sure of which planet he was on. Still, he knew he was meant to be here; the fear in the lab tech's eyes told him as much. The thermal monitor was always an excellent security measure, but reinforced glass slipped over the sensor would conceal body heat.

He wondered where he'd learned that.

The tech was trying to look brave, but the shaking gave him away. Jayne smirked, looking down at him, and recited the only phrase he had really spoken in a long time.

"Information on The Program. Now."

Usually the response was instantaneous, but this tech narrowed his eyes. "That's classified, and there will be a team coming as we speak. I hope you've said your prayers."

Jayne smirked, snapping his hands out deftly. The tech screamed and his arms tried to move uselessly, a strangely comic movement.

Jayne pulled out a cigar, lighting it before speaking. "Don't whine, s'just a couple o' disclocations."

He didn't bother saying they could be easily fixed, didn't offer any hope that this was the only damage to be done. The man sobbed but struggled to stay upright, trying to get away. Jayne knelt down, picking up the man's right hand. A wedding band gleamed, and he moved his fingers over the thumb. A sharp crack rang out, mixing with the man's scream, and Jayne nodded.

"Let's try this again…"

After he'd located the data discs he'd done a quick inspection for a panic button. None were to be found; the man had been lying about a team coming to save him. The bullet was silent, the close range tearing away part of the man's skull. Eyes filled with tears suddenly went dead.

Jayne didn't blink.

He noticed a wave in the corner. Something tickled his arm, and he flicked the dust off quickly, glancing down at the markings he saw. When the moon passed a full cycle, when he went to get his latest kills noted, he always asked for a small black line on his forearm. He was barely even sure when it had started, only made sure to keep it up in case he couldn't remember next time. It was the only timekeeping he still managed. He was fairly sure they represented months.

There were six of them.

* * *

Wash balanced Matthew on in his arms as he powered up Serenity. The checks were quick, they only took about two hours, but it was their way of ensuring she was good to go. Once a week they came down, all of them, following Vera and Mal through the forest, around hidden trails to arrive at the clearing they had landed in all those months ago. Sometimes there were waves, most of the time there weren't. The only regular caller they had was Badger, and River would tend to disappear for a little while, speaking quietly to the little man who always, always answered.

He left the bridge, his son squirming happily when he saw Mattie trotting through the crew quarters. The dog was staying closer to River than normal, and that was saying something. Even Simon was a little on edge with the way River had gone quiet today, and though there was no indication of violence, the crew were wary nonetheless.

Simon went straight to the infirmary to perform a fast check of River, the baby's development coming along well. As she rose from the bed her eyes began to flick around the room.

"Coming…"

He didn't turn as Mal and the others entered. They always wanted to be there when the waves came through, though inevitably there were only recorded data files, no hint of the sender. They knew it was him though, knew that he was out there somewhere making sure they got the information.

Simon watched as Mattie began to whine, nudging against River, who stared at the black screen on the wall.

"River? What's coming?"

She began to shake, clutching at Mattie carefully, one hand on her stomach.

"Too much, can't process, will break into shards!"

Simon exchanged a worried glance with Mal as Vera and Inara moved closer to River. Wash clutched Matthew to his chest as Zoe surreptitiously placed a hand on her Mare's Leg. Kaylee was looking worried, and it struck Book that they hadn't been this tense for some time now.

Suddenly her eyes widened and they turned as one to look at the screen behind them.

A stranger.

A face they hadn't seen in months.

Kaylee took a step forward.

"Jayne?"


	27. Chapter 27

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **I know right, it seemed like the bloody pace would never pick up! I have to dedicate this chapter to **envielestrange**, who drew the most incredible pic for this story (it's from when Simon and Vera are talking while they wait for River and it's just…wow). Check it out on my twitter or I can send it to you if you'd like to see it :) She is also on deviant Art, where you can find some more of her amazing Firefly drawings. Also cheers to **vandvere**, who gave me a cool line I had to use. Anchor credit to her :)

* * *

He found it funny what the years would erase. It may have been three decades ago, and his face may no longer recognisable, but he swore he saw a second of recognition. He hadn't changed much of course, still tall and thin, still gaunt, but he was no longer the green young doctor who had attempted the Alliance's greatest design here on this desolate planet.

He'd had thirty years to plan, to help Matthias find the perfect candidate and lose her to an overly obsessive brother, to study all the initial faults. His Breeders were volatile, but the research done on Miranda, as well as the further experiments with the Ares compound, had proven crucial.

And now, finally, he had to orders to proceed.

Not on a new world, or a previous failed experiment ground swept clean, but on the original planet where they had found such brilliant candidates the first time. Although they had reared so few of the more advanced Breeders to full adulthood, those who had survived were magnificent, and the compound had been changed, altered.

Bettered.

She eyed him warily. "The Phaedre virus? Thought you scientists cleared that up over thirty years ago."

The scientist shook his head. "We did our best, but there will always be carriers. It seems this part of town is experiencing somewhat of an outbreak, and it would be best if we could contain it quickly."

She struggled to breath. "But…last time…so many deaths. The children…"

He nodded sympathetically. "I know, it was awful. But the sooner we contain it, the less chance there is of an epidemic. And medicine has advanced since then."

A while later he walked back to the facility. Strange to be in a place so familiar and yet so foreign. Still, the underground lab was the best secret in the 'verse, the abandoned hospital was undergoing repairs.

Soon it would be a hive of industrious activity, working towards their next generation of development. Soon he would have his hands on the last Breeder, on the candidate who had escaped, on the girl.

Everything was progressing nicely.

"Excellent."

* * *

_He'd seen this room before. He'd flicked on countless waves and sent data to this file bank, the empty room staring back at him. Occasionally a flash of memory would be associated._

"_What happened here?"_

"_Needed to find some tape."_

"_So you had to tear my infirmary apart?"_

"_Apparently…"_

"_Spine ok?"_

"_Spry fer a dead fella."_

_The empty room rarely brought about memories, but when it did they were strange. Today there was no empty room, only a crowd of people._

_Ancient memories long supressed, people staring. Opponents. Older man would be quickly disabled with blow to the temple, two women easy marks for snapped necks. Darker skinned woman looked stronger, best to get the weapon from her hand quickly. Strawberry haired man holding infant best killed after darker woman, brown haired man dealt a blow to the skull, a finishing knife to the gut._

_Another woman, far too familiar, a face from the past associated with joy and guilt. A dog, a pack brother. And someone else, someone he couldn't quite make out at the back of the room._

Funny how someone could look familiar and utterly foreign at the same time.

They stared.

Underneath the tight black tank his shoulders and arms were covered in tattoos, black ink trailing endlessly under the top to his covered torso. His skin was darker, more time spent in the sun, and the scruffy stubble he usually sported showed signs of hasty shaving whenever he remembered it was there. He'd lost weight, the cheeks were gaunt and hollow, but the massive frame was still strapped with muscle.

It was the eyes.

They didn't even register surprise at seeing his old crew on the wave screen. None of the usual fire was flashing in those blue eyes, the piercing stare he locked them with was cold.

Not just cold…dark.

Simon could make out the energy beneath those flat eyes, like a lake of violence waiting to burst its banks, carefully controlled only so long as it was required. He could make out the racing pulse in his former crewmate's throat, remembering back to all those months ago.

_Simon shook his head as he took Jayne's temperature. "You're not sweating much, that's the issue. Your temperature is through the roof…have you been feeling unwell lately?"_

_Jayne shook his head and shrugged. "S'all good Doc, I'm a big guy, make more heat."_

_"Jayne, your heart is beating a mile a minute – are you afraid? Angry? Stressed?"_

Kaylee raised a shaking hand to her mouth as those eyes stared back at her with no recognition, only flicking quickly over her and onto the rest of the crew. Six months, they'd been without him for six months, and somehow they had convinced themselves that he would be alright, that his survival instinct would protect him.

They were right about the body, but the mind?

Vera moved carefully in front of River as Mal addressed his former mercenary. "Jayne, where the _guay _have ya been?"

His head tilted as if he was trying to place the voice. "Around."

His eyes flicked over the crew, and Simon stepped forward carefully. "Jayne…the information you've been sending, it-"

"Don't care."

He shifted minutely, the action revealing a bloodied hand on the floor behind him, the owner nowhere in sight.

Inara fought back tears at the stranger wearing Jayne's face. "Jayne, we need-"

A movement caught his eyes and they narrowed as River pushed her way around Vera, Mattie still standing in front of her torso. Her body was tensed but she was obviously fighting a reaction, her eyes straining with the effort to control herself. On the screen Jayne's eyes flared with the first emotion they had seen, tongue running along his teeth as he stared at the Reader.

One fingerless glove covered hand twitched, and his muscles bunched, as if he could reach through the screen and take what his body wanted so badly. Mal actually let his hand travel to his side arm; despite the miles of distance between them the hungry look on the merc's face was enough to make his blood boil. Hungry, that same looked that had been in his eyes at the Longshore Inn when he'd spotted the girl, but without any of the fighting, the control that had previously held the urge back.

The air in the infirmary was tight with tension, and River opened her mouth to speak when suddenly…

Mattie sat down.

The movement revealed her swollen abdomen.

Jayne froze.

"_Ma, where's my Pa?"_

_From where she was stirring soup on the stove his mother seemed to freeze for a moment before turning. "Nowhere we wanna be."_

_He shook his head. "Joey Lyeman said everyone has a Pa; who's mine?"_

_Mattie butted against his shoulder and he absently scratched the big head, his eight year old eyes trained on hers. He knew she wouldn't lie to him, but she was struggling with something._

"_A bad man who hurt me once."_

_He looked down at Mattie, who whuffed. "How did he hurt you Ma?"_

_She moved to sit next to him on the floor, wrapping one arm around his shoulders. "He made me do something I didn't want to do, an' when that happened he put you in my belly."_

_Jayne looked at her. "Does…does that mean I'm bad too?"_

_She kissed his cheek and shook her head sharply. "No baby, never. When I realized you were in there I got real happy, so did Mattie. Even though he hurt me I still wanted you, cuz I knew you were special."_

_He scratched at the MA on his arm without looking at it. "But…if he did that to ya, that means the bad stuff is in me too."_

_She looked at him carefully. "You remember the time you broke John Steam's nose?"_

_He nodded and she continued. "Why'd you do that?"_

"_Cuz he said I was a whoresget."_

"_An' why'd that make you mad?"_

"_Cuz…cuz he said it bad. Like it was…bad ta be that."_

_She nodded. "You don't like people sayin' bad things 'bout us do ya?"_

_He shook his head. "No…makes me mad."_

_She kissed his forehead again and whispered conspiratorially. "You wanna know a secret?"_

_He nodded warily._

"_Boys who don't like other boys sayin' bad things 'bout their family don't grow up ta be bad men who hurt women."_

_He felt relieved, leaning back into her arms, and she held him, uncaring as the soup on the stove burned._

The girl, the target, object of every dark and dangerous desire he'd had in the last few months. Suddenly his mind threw up an image it had been trying to hide; the girl biting her lip, arms wrapped around the pole behind her, face terrified and dark with lust and eyes haunted as he thrust into her harshly.

"_Please…"_

_The begging only made him move harder, and lean legs tightened around his waist._

_Tightened._

The same girl was standing in front of him, body tensed, stomach swollen with what he knew, instinctively, was his offspring.

_Stealing smoothers nightly to fight the urge._

Months of searching.

"_She jus' bothers me, s'all."_

Blood.

"_Real men ain't got no need ta take what isn't offered, always remember that baby."_

So much blood.

"_She feels everything, she can't not."_

Screams of pain ringing through the air in various laboratories, exciting his bloodlust but never as perfect as the liquid cries he'd wrung from her throat that night in the factory.

_"No…no no no no no no." His voice was getting louder, but he couldn't fight to terror and disgust raging in his body, couldn't make his mouth silence itself. "Fuck, cao, no, fucking…no no no NOOOOOOOOOOO!"_

Ink, piercing into his skin, marking his every foul action, his every debt collection.

"_He's following the only course left to him."_

The faint but still rich smell on the t-shirt, stirring his blood towards action, the desire to take.

_"Can't resist fragile body bent and broken, wants to rip more screams from the virgin throat, wants to violate again."_

His mother's eyes met his and he felt something break inside of him.

"_I owe her blood."_

The crew watched in horror as Jayne began to shake violently, muscles straining with the effort to keep him from falling. The blank face filled with shame, guilt, rage, regret and disgust, his hands scraped through his hair as his psyche battled to keep him intact.

Vera kept her voice calm but there was a note of desperation. "Baby, don't let it win, ya can't let it take over. Don't let it-"

A hoarse roar of agony, one laced with more blood and pain than anything that the 'verse had ever heard before, rang through the infirmary. The last image they saw was the look of horror and anguish that crossed his face before his body took to the only method it had for dealing with his pain. The violence ripped through him, and his hands tore up the desk, sending the wave maker crashing to the ground and turning the screen black.

* * *

_Murderer._

Glass breaking.

_Whoresget._

Tables shattering.

_Mercenary._

Benches and chairs flung into walls.

_Rapist._

Electric flashes as the ceiling lights were smashed.

Too much, too heavy, the burden of his debt was crushing his soul and taking his sanity with it. His hands were covered in blood, his psyche was drenched in it, the debt was too heavy, the torment too great, the sin too vile.

_Breeder._

One hand came up the scratch at the MA tattooed on his arm, as if it could rid him of this poison by destroying the words. To tear it away, unleash the pus and leave a wound that could bleed cleanly. Even when his skin ripped he knew it couldn't…nothing could.

He sank to his knees, clutching his head in his hands as the memories, the guilt, came flooding back. Her pale body brutalized, his hands leaving their own tattoos that may have faded physically but could never be erased. And now her stomach was swollen with the last reminder of that vile night. He couldn't dwell on why her brother hadn't handled it, on why her body had retained the pregnancy forced on her so cruelly, on why his mother's eyes had been calm and compassionate rather than lit with fury.

_Lies._

Those people, he had fought with those people, beside those people. He had trusted them, had been trusted in return, games of hoopball and late nights spent sharing whisky. Now his act, already scarred on the girl's soul like a branding iron of sin, was left in plain sight.

His throat began to close as he struggled to stand, drawing on the last piece of himself he could find beneath the violence, the rage, the white hot lust that still wracked his body as if she was in the room. Even without the smell it had hit him like a freight train, even seeing her condition his blood howled and his cock ached.

What kind of monster could exist like this? Hot and heavy for a girl he'd broken and bent, planted with a seed she should never had been forced to deal with. No man existed here, only violence, only rage, only blood encased in a sack of desecrated skin.

The wave machine was destroyed, the duffel he had stashed held no locator, he couldn't be tracked by any conventional means.

He looked around the laboratory, now destroyed after his body had attempted to purge the sin from his soul, his blood soaking into the fingerless gloves as shards of beaker glass rested there. He struggled to think, he needed to think.

There was nothing. No piece of himself, no final say. There was only the violence, the rage, the debt.

His face cleared and he stood taller.

He had to go back, back to the original sin. There was a promise, itching at the corner of his mind, telling him things would be alright if only he could return to the place his soul had been left behind.

Almost done.

* * *

_No._

_Wrong, all wrong._

_Mind damaged, heart hurt, soul shattering into splinters and leaving shards to cut away at the human anchors who had previously held him in barely there clutches._

The voices around the room were worried and desperate, and they were right to be.

Vera locked one arm around River's shoulders as she looked at Mal. "You gotta get him."

Not a question, a request, a plea.

An order.

He shook his head. "He's got a right ta his vendetta, ain't my place ta-"

"It's yer gorram place if I say it is! You _will _bring him back, now!

At his hard eyes she hissed. "What'd ya offer him, Cap'n? What'd ya tell him he had ta do?"

Her yelling made Matthew shift uncomfortably in his father's arms, and she felt a twinge of guilt before locking it down tight; her son needed an advocate, now more than ever. And her words had elicited a response. Not quite hitting the mark, but the crew's faces were enough to tell her she was on the right track. River's voice was hollow in her ear.

"A final repayment. A bullet."

Vera nodded. "I thought as much."

Zoe stared her down. "You've let us stay here fer six months, only askin' for the occasional help on chores, knowin' he was out there…why are ya sayin' this now?"

Inara stared at Vera and knew. "Because she's only now become truly frightened for him."

Vera nodded. "Ginger told ya, an' that's fine, 'specially since ya ain't shared nuthin'."

She looked out at the crew. "Jayne's Da…Jayne was conceived by force. An' it's bad enough he's spent the last six months fightin' a battle that he don't deserve ta be fightin', but seein' what he left in the girl's stomach?"

Kaylee's kind heart could barely process what it already knew, let alone the revelation that Jayne was the product of that kind of violence. Her belief in him wavered, which in turn broke her heart even further, and Inara wrapped an arm around her shoulders tightly, kissing her hair.

Mal was torn. "I got a baby on board, an' a girl like ta pop soon – I ain't takin' this crew out."

Simon was quiet. "I'll go."

The others turned and he looked up. "River isn't due for another month at least…that would give us time to look for him. And…"

He didn't continue, though every person in the infirmary knew what he was thinking. The man they had seen at the start of that wave was not the man who had finished it, if he could be called a man at all. The look of horror and rage, the desperation in his eyes…that man was not long for this world.

Vera's voice was quiet. "Imagine yer whole life, yer whole existence, was all about the worse thing you'd ever done."

Mal sighed. "Simon, we're goin' back ta the house, an' I want ya ta bring us up ta speed on everythin' that those documents have shown. Vera, that means whatever information we've been lettin' ya sit on, ya give us, _dong ma_?"

She nodded quickly, and for the first time Mal wasn't looking at the self-assured house mistress who had taken them all into her home with strong words and supportive hands. He was looking at a frightened mother who wanted her son back.

Wash ran a reassuring hand over his son's back. "I'll wave Badger, see if he can help you at all."

"I'm going too."

They turned to Book, who had steel in his voice and hardness in his eyes. "Whatever demons that have been chasing Jayne aren't going to have disappeared, and you might need someone handy with a firearm."

Zoe's voice was calm. "What're you gonna do preacher, shoot him?"

He shook his head. "Extend him the same courtesy he once showed me; I'm not going to judge him for what he has done. It might be the only gift he has left."

"Gift…" River moved away from Vera sharply, clasping at her skull. "No! The gift will be stolen, the whiteness takes over…tiny little minds and lives drifting in the darkness. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!"

She sunk to her knees, clutching at the warm body of Mattie as he lay beside her, nuzzling against her neck and face as if he could wipe away whatever horrors she was seeing.

Mal nodded. "Fine, we reconvene at the house, load up, an' go find our boy."

As they exited the infirmary Wash's worried voice was only half joking.

"Or whatever's left of him."

* * *

"But, but he just got innoc'd!"

"I'm very sorry madam, the symptoms are present, and our detectors indicate worrying levels of Phaedra. We'll need to take him for observation."

"C-c-can I come see him?"

Her eyes swept over the terrified whore, the tiniest snippet of disgust evident as she examined her scantily clad form, baby shifting nervously in her arms.

"When you find time between clients."


	28. Chapter 28

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N:** Um, so this fic just crossed the 300 review mark…which is just…well to say my tiny little mind is blown would be a complete and total understatement. I'm so so fuckin' grateful, amazed, humbled…thank you so much for your ongoing support! LOVE!

* * *

His room looked like some kind of picture hall with documents, data files, and prints adorning the wall so he could attempt to unravel even a tiny part of this mess before they left to find Jayne. Simon located the holo player that he had borrowed from Ginger; the latest files sent through were vids, not the endless mess of journals, reports and censored articles that had previously been sent.

"Be careful what you wish for."

He turned, River leaning against the doorway. Mattie was standing behind her nuzzling at one hand placed absently on his head. The other was pressed against her swollen stomach, and Simon swallowed thickly as he looked at her.

Arms, legs, face; she was still thin, still leaning on skinniness as she always had. But the stomach protruded like a marker, a beacon, reminding him again and again that his sweet little _mei mei_ was soon to be a mother. He almost wished she had grown, ballooned, because maybe that would make the shock of seeing her pregnant less disturbing. Her pale peach dress only served to highlight her youth, though the cargo jacket she was so fond of concealed what he knew to be thin arms.

Only the two of them knew the sex of Jayne's offspring; she had refused to communicate it to anyone else.

Mattie snorted indignantly, and Simon wondered if she had whispered in the dog's ears late at night what exactly she was carrying.

He looked at her carefully. "You…you said that to me before, didn't you?"

She nodded. "Will see all too well, will finally learn the truth."

He looked down at the data disc. "Isn't that what we want?"

She entered the room, one hand skimming a data file on the wall. Words whizzed over the clear plastic printout, more of the cryptic mumbo jumbo that made Simon's eyes cross, needing just one form of decoder before he could ascertain the purpose.

"What we want, what we need…"

She pinned him with a dark stare. "Do not judge."

He nodded. "It's been almost seven months _mei mei_, I think I know what to-"

"Difference between knowing and seeing. Be prepared."

She glanced over the files. "Connection will be made; aggressor and libido response too closely tied."

She swept out of the room, Mattie following after her like a lovesick puppy.

Simon turned back to the holo player. He would heed his sister's words, as he so often did. But he had to know.

He clicked play.

* * *

She looked at him as he carefully checked over his weapons, loading ammunition and cataloguing his requirements.

"_Thought you were leavin' anyhow."_

"_Well I guess that depends on you."_

A tenant, a passenger looking into her Captain's eyes a wondering when he would tell her. Reading the same desire she felt in every glance, every touch, every movement he made.

Wishing.

Even then, oh so long ago, she had waited. Now they had possessed one another, bodies intertwining on nights filled with passion. Now she had laughed as he taught her how to shoot, out in the forest as River and Mattie ran wild. Now he had grinned as she tried to teach him how to cook something other than protein, making a mess of Vera's kitchen and laughing when the house matron had joined them.

Now they were something else.

"Mal?"

He didn't turn. "Gotta get ready, don't have time ta-"

"Make time."

He turned then, eyes surprised at the harsh and authoritative tone she had used. She refused to be thrown off by the warning set to his jawline. She took a step forward, holding the centre of the room and making sure she had his attention.

"Mal, I need you to promise me something. Promise me you will not fulfil Jayne's request until you've all come back here, until he's had a chance to recuperate."

He shook his head. "Can't promise that, not if he goes woolly. 'Nara ya saw him-"

"I did. I saw a man who was drawn so far into himself that he could barely remember us. I saw him marking himself with everything he had done over the last few months, as if his body was meant to be an act of penance once he was gone. I saw his reaction to the pregnancy, saw it break through everything that he was and leave him horrified. I saw."

He took a step forward, breathing heavily as he stared down at her, his tone harsh. "Then ya also saw the violence waitin', the way he looked at her before he saw her stomach. 'Nara, might be that puttin' him down is the last kindness I can give that man."

She refused to be intimidated. "I'm not saying you shouldn't do it. But Mal, he's spent the better part of a year chasing down the people who did this. He's exhausted, broken…he will need time."

"Woman, don't-"

She snapped as she interrupted him, advancing with every word until he was forced to sit on the bed and stare up at her.

"Yes Mal, woman. _Your_ woman, whether you like it or not at this point. And just as you have owned every part of me far longer than I am willing to admit I too own parts of you. You've enjoyed the last few months, taken solace and pleasure in the bed we now share, but that is not all we are. This is a relationship. You _will_ listen to me, you _will _grant me a place in your heart not solely tied to light, to joy."

For once the Captain was speechless, staring up at her with wide eyes. She cupped his face in her hands, trying to ignore the flash of desire she always felt this close, his skin warm and his breath against her fingers.

"Jayne may truly wish to die, and maybe you will have to grant him that wish. But he should rest, see his crew, hear what River has to say, talk to his mother. Most importantly he should meet his child first."

He swallowed and she waited. Finally she saw it, the most minute nod, the tiniest glimmer of agreement. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough.

She bent down to kiss him, knowing instinctively that his arms would wrap around her, pulling her against him and down onto the bed.

She let him.

For hours she let him take his pain, his fear, his anxiety and turn it into pleasure.

And he let her do the same.

* * *

Matthew Washburne giggled as Book bounced him absently on one knee, sitting in the lounge at Vera's while the rest of the crew waited. Book held the baby close, breathing deeply, the smell of powder and the indefinable scent of infant acting as a balm to his concerns. He was packed, ready to go, but his crewmates were still in their rooms. River was sitting with Vera at the table, the older woman showing an unusual display of sentiment by keeping one hand on her grandchild's home. He could see the tension in her body, even Mattie warming her feet wasn't calming her down.

It wasn't a good sign.

For her part River had stayed relatively silent, until Zoe had questioned just where exactly they were to start looking for Jayne. The brown eyes had clouded over, and her voice had grown quiet.

"Scene of the crime."

It didn't take a genius to figure out she meant Persephone, but the reminder had them all on edge.

Kaylee was pacing nervously in front of Simon's room, Zoe leaning against the wall but just as tense. The first mate wasn't likely to leave her son for any reason, but the idea of the Captain heading into the Black with only a doctor and preacher was…unsettling.

Mal emerged, one hand holding his pack and the other around Inara's waist. The Companion looked tired but still worried, and Book knew they last few hours hadn't been spent talking. Still, at least a satisfied Captain should be a slightly less anxious Captain.

One look into Mals' eyes told him that was unlikely.

Wash swallowed. "Nearly ready, Cap'n?"

Mal nodded. "Just waitin' on the Doc."

Zoe shook her head. "I don't like this sir; Jayne's dangerous, an' you ain't exactly weighed down with firepower."

Mal gritted his teeth. "Just need ta get him back, we'll worry about the how when we come ta it." He looked at Wash. "You wave Badger?"

The pilot nodded. "He's expecting ya, though he ain't too keen on helpin' find Jayne."

Mal nodded. "Ain't no surprise, we know how he feels 'bout our Reader here, an' with what Jayne did-"

"We should be grateful."

The crew turned as Simon entered the lounge. His face was pale, and when Kaylee offered him water he shook his head, turning instead for the whisky on the sideboard. They watched as he slugged back two shots, seeming to relish the burn as if it could wipe something vile from his memory.

Inara was careful as she approached. "Simon?"

He turned, his eyes exhausted and his face tight. "We should be grateful he did what he did."

Mal narrowed his eyes. "Yer sister was left on our boat bloodied an' bruised, an' now she's sportin' a stomach full o' Jayne's get. My merc has spent the last couple'a months as a rapist, this crew is still reelin', an' yer sayin' we should be grateful?"

Simon nodded. "Yes, yes that's exactly what I'm saying."

They stared. He moved to the front of the room, and Book was reminded of a time many months ago, a time before they had survived one hell and arrived at another, a time when they were not family but people existing together.

A boy standing before a crew of criminals.

"_I am very smart. I went to the best medicad in Osiris, top three per cent of my class, finished my internship in eight months. Gifted is the term. So when I say my little sister makes me look like an idiot child, I want you to understand my full meaning. River was more than gifted; she was a gift. Everything she did, music, math, theoretical physics, even dance…there was nothing that didn't come as naturally to her as breathing comes to us. She could be a real brat about it too, I mean she used to… There was a school, a government sponsored Academy. We had never even heard of it but it had the most exciting program, the most challenging. I mean we could have sent her anywhere but she wanted to go, she wanted to learn. She was fourteen…"_

The boy was no more.

Simon gripped the glass carefully and ran a hand through his hair as he spoke. "The Program, the one that Jayne has been sending us information for, it seems to have been a companion department to the Academy which River was sent to. Subjects were selected based on superior genetic resilience; the aim was to introduce stronger physical genes into the Academy pool. Subjects conditioned for learning were best sourced from the Core, but for resilience…the data indicates they headed for the Rim."

Vera stood silently, moving to the side board to fix her own drink as Simon continued. "The information has been heavily wiped, but I've pieced together what happened. The subjects were injected with something called the Ares complex. It's essentially a synthetic virus designed to bond with DNA. The aim…the aim was to enhance aggressor genes, to accelerate adrenaline production…they wanted their subjects faster, stronger, less susceptible to pain or injury."

The crew were silent, not knowing that their thoughts were all along the same vein. Jayne walking on a leg that had been harpooned by a Reaver shot, Jayn'es body taking long to react to Simon's doping and recovering faster than normal, Jayne unfazed by shots, knives, bar room brawls that should have left him incarcerated.

Simon took a sip of the drink that Vera had freshened. "Reports seem to indicate that the Ares complex worked. Subjects experienced accelerated heart rates, adrenal responses, the fight response almost completely surpassed the flight. But there were problems."

Wash stared. "Ya think?"

Simon sighed. "The bonding reactions were severe. The reports indicate very few survivors. Those that did live were labelled either IAs, Immature Alphas who were little more than animals, or MAs, Mature Alphas who showed positive results. Their systems didn't just adapt to the compound, they flourished."

He took another gulp of his drink. "They called them Breeders. Their sole purpose was to be mating with candidates, and the process…"

He sat heavily in a nearby chair. "The data disc that was just sent through…it showed one of the initial mating attempts."

His eyes were haunted and horrified. River approached, laying one hand on his shoulder, and he found his fingers travelling up to her stomach of their own volition. There was no kick, her baby was sleeping, but somehow it gave him strength. He wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning against her stomach as if the child inside could wipe away the evil that he had seen.

"The result was…there was no way the candidate survived. The aggressor response was too linked to the sex drive. Even with the training they forced on them at the Academy…what that thing did to her…I can't…"

"Shhh." His sister's voice was cool and quiet, like a balm, and he fought the urge to disappear. The vid had been beyond brutal; he had seen something he thought he would only ever see if they were attacked by Reavers. The Breeder's eyes…they weren't human.

_Blood._

_Limbs being torn._

_Blood._

_Violent thrusting._

_Screams._

_Blood._

_Blood. _

_Blood._

Kaylee fought back tears at the pain on Simon's face. Zoe's voice was calm but firm.

"And what has this got to do with Jayne?"

Simon swallowed thickly before continuing. "Jayne's arm has a mark on it; MA. It is the same mark we saw on that…thing in Persephone. I don't know how, but it would seem that he was part of the initial experiment. Reports show that there were three Mature Alphas but one died before transport. They don't say the planet but-"

"Purgatum."

They turned to look at Vera, crouching beside Mattie. "They chose Purgatum as their planet."

Ginger moved silently beside her long-time friend as Vera began to speak. "When Jayne was two they came. Alliance scientists…they told us there was a virus. Took our children. They hit the whorehouses, knew that the girls would be less educated, knew we wouldn't be able ta argue if our babies was sick…"

She blinked and Ginger rubbed her arm encouragingly. "Told us they could find a cure, said they needed ta be kept under observation. I was too young, I didn't know. So many children were taken."

Mattie nudged at her hand. "They set up a hospital, said we couldn't see them for fear o' contamination. The reports started comin' from other girls, their sons dyin' after only a few weeks. I started to think it strange, bein' that Jayne hadn't never shown no symptoms o' being ill. Went there one night with Mattie."

The dog growled low in his throat. "Some lady scientist was there, tried ta give me a baby weren't mine. Mattie went an' found Jayne fer me…wish I'd left a bullet in her head."

She was silent for a moment, a tear slipping down Ginger's cheek. "That tattoo on his arm, they left that there. Said it was a marker, didn't say why. From then on, as he grew, we knew he was…different."

Mal's jaw was tight. "Ya mean infected. He was a Breeder."

Vera's voice was harsh. "_He was my son._ That's all that mattered. He may have had more energy, grew bigger'n the other boys, may have been a lil too prone ta his fists…but he ain't never raised a hand ta no girl in this house, he was loved. I did my best with him, an' when he left…"

A single tear seemed desperate to escape the startling blue eyes but she refused to let it. "Took a piece o' me with him."

Inara stood, moving to Vera's side. "You gave him something the others never had; love, and a family. Perhaps that is the only reason he's survived this long without…"

Eyes flicked to River, who sat gracefully on the floor. Mattie approached, sniffing at her stomach before dropping down, his head in her lap. Her voice was shaking, as if tightly controlled.

"The chassis, the framework…provided the system, the strength."

Simon nodded. "The fact that River…the fact that she survived that night is…"

He ran a hand over his face, struggling to fight the images his mind was throwing up. Superficial bruising, cuts…she had looked horrific but she was alive, relatively undamaged. She had never actually spoken about that night, couldn't or wouldn't say exactly what had come to pass. It may not have been voluntary, but he was starting to believe that was true for both of them. In fact, he was starting to think that although his sister had been the one most obviously violated, Jayne was just as much a victim.

Bile rose in his throat. He didn't want to see those images ever again, didn't want to have to process what could have happened to her. The bruising he'd discovered had been intense, the coupling was indeed violent…but compared to what he saw?

It was a gentle beating of butterfly wings compared to a tidal wave.

Book's voice was careful as he passed Matthew over to his mother. "Vera, whatever you ingrained in him may be the only humanity he has left."

Vera straightened. "Then that's what y'all have ta bring back."

Mal stood.

"Best we leave now…don't know jus' how long we have until…"

He didn't finish the sentence but he didn't need to. Every crew member was flung back to the moment when Jayne's eyes had changed, blank violence meeting shame, disgust, rage…

They needed him back.

Soon.

* * *

"_Damn yokels can't even tell a transport ship ain't got no guns on it! Blow a crater in this moon, hah!"_

No humour now. The ship was like any other ship. The hiding places did little to conceal a man of his size. Didn't matter.

Didn't matter if they discovered him, as they were likely to.

Didn't matter if he had to paint the insides of this metal wreck with blood.

Didn't matter what he had to do, how he had to do it.

It only mattered that he returned.

The debt stood, and he would pay.


	29. Chapter 29

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Hey kids, another amazing picture from **envielestrange **is up on my LJ…seriously this girl is beyond talented, that's for damn sure. Go check it out, River and Mattie…she really captures some incredible stuff. Also, good news; I've actually mapped out this whole fic now! Apologies for the grimness of this chapter.

* * *

Shock and confusion.

"He just…you can't possibly mean he's one of those things?"

"Cap'n says he is…Doc says he is…hell, his own mother says he is…"

"But…we lived on that boat with him for years."

"I know husband."

Concern.

"Cap'n ain't gonna hurt him, is he 'Nara?"

"I don't know…he doesn't want to, I know that much. But with Jayne the way he is…with things so unpredictable…I honestly don't know."

Anxiety.

"Ginger…I can't lose him like that. I can't have him thinkin' on himself like that…not when he ain't got the whole story. I shoulda tol' him years ago."

"Honey, what were you meant to tell him?"

Fear.

"Captain…if we find him and he's so broken he doesn't know himself…how will we take care of him?"

"Ain't to sure he needs takin' care of preacher, least not in the way yer talkin' 'bout."

"I will _not_ let you kill that man."

"No, I imagine you won't."

Violence.

"_Mei mei_, what will you do while I'm gone?"

"Wait."

The crew was drawn tight with tension as they followed their Captain, doctor and preacher to the ship. They tried to digest what they had been told of Jayne's past, of The Program, but the truth was they could barely think straight for the worry. The boys were laden with baskets of food, ammunition, whatever the House of Night could grant them. Vera's girls had passed over as much dried store as they could find, not saying a word but letting their eyes show all the worry.

The crew had grown close to the girls of the house; Matthew delighted all of them, and Wash was more than happy to let them coddle his son as his wife looked on with watchful but amused eyes. Kaylee was thrilled to provide whatever mechanical help she could, and Mal had worked hard with Book to reinforce those parts of the house that needed it. If some of the girl's found River disturbing, slightly off centre, they refused to show it. Vera had made it clear that any girl carrying Jayne's child would be welcomed and adored, and the older staff especially had taken much joy in knitting and sewing all manner of garments for the littles Cobb and baby Washburne.

Now those same women looked at them with fear and worry, knowing that something had their housemistress on edge. Anything that made a strong woman like Vera anxious was cause enough to worry.

And…there were the rumours.

Wash wrapped one arm around Zoe's waist, the other clutching his son to his chest. Kaylee and Inara walked with linked arms, trying to find the strength they once had as their partners moved with heavy hearts and slumped shoulders. Book let one arm rest over River's shoulders, relieved when she didn't pull away.

He needed the contact.

Mattie walked between Ginger and Vera, the latter keeping one hand on the enormous head of her oldest companion.

The procession continued deep into the woods.

* * *

Simon paused before entering the ship. The crew was seeing them off, stress in their eyes and weight on their hearts as their friends, their family, went off to find their wayward mercenary. He turned when a hand touched his shoulder, looking into Kaylee's warm eyes.

She ran that same hand over his neck, and he leaned in, wanting nothing more than to disappear into her, to bathe in warmth and vitality rather than the putrid pus that vid had left on his soul. He ran his hand down the length of her arm, coming to rest on the fourth finger of her left hand.

_His eyes lit up with shock and relief. "Yes? Did you just say yes?"_

_She smiled, tears streaming down her face as he stood, pulling her into his arms with a grin. "Yes, o' course it's yes!"_

_Simon kissed her soundly, taking a minute to realize the echoing claps were not his own mind sending out approval, but the rest of his crewmates cheering him on. His sister stood at the front, one hand on her swelling stomach, and her proud smile told him everything he needed to know._

_He looked down into the openly joyful face of his new fiancée._

_And knew he'd never done anything so smart in his whole life._

He looked at her. "This…when I get back, I want this official."

She nodded, tearing up. "I'm…I'd be proud Simon, don't ferget that."

He pulled her close, kissing her fiercely, before releasing her. The time was too short, their peace was too fleeting, and he didn't know how he would come back from this. River approached and Kaylee stepped back into Book's comforting arm.

_The sickening sound of flesh tearing and maniacal, violent grunts._

Simon stumbled as he felt the disturbing images pulling at his psyche. He looked at his sister. She took his hands, bringing them against her stomach, and he didn't look away from the whisky brown eyes he had loved since her first held her as a tiny baby.

The tiniest, barest flutter against his hand. She smiled. "From little things big things grow."

_Late at night, slipping out in search of his missing bedmate and finding her on the couch with Mattie at her feet. River curled up on the couch beside his fiancée, both women resting their hands over the home of Jayne's offspring._

_A tear slipping down Kaylee's face as she smiled, watery, fragile, safe._

He hugged her close, breathing in the clean scent of her hair, wishing it would wash away the evil coating his soul. Her voice was a barely there whisper in his ear.

"Stronger than images, must believe."

He nodded as he withdrew, heading onto the ship without looking back.

Mal felt Inara at his side, looking down into black eyes. She didn't say a word, she didn't need to. He brought a hand up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles and refusing to look away from that dark stare. Even here, in the heat, in the dryness, in the darkness of these wild forests…she couldn't have looked more beautiful.

_The warmth of skin lightly coated in sweat after exertion. A heated smile, lips tracing his neck and jawline as his arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders._

_Peace._

She moved away as Zoe approached. "You gonna be ok sir?"

He nodded. "Always am Zo'."

She didn't smile. "That's what I'm afraid of."

_Finding Wash up early one morning, bouncing a fussy baby Matthew. He had grinned, offering to take the boy, and his pilot had rolled his eyes._

"'_Bout time you did some godparenting."_

_Mal had laughed as Matthew pulled at his hair, and blue eyes met grey as he rubbed a hand over his godson's back._

"_Jus' didn't wanna show you up, is all."_

_Wash had retaliated by falling asleep on the couch, leaving Mal with a tiny little person who suddenly didn't smell so great. Zoe had found him later, passed out on the couch next to Wash, and couldn't hide the twitch of a smile as she took a snoring Matthew from his arms._

A million years of understanding, battles, long wars passed between them. She knew what he would do if he was pushed, even with the promise he'd made Inara. And he knew that the woman standing before he may have been the first mate he had hired on without question all those years ago, but he was no longer the person she took orders from first and foremost.

_Seeing Zoe just after she had given birth, looking into that baby's eyes like she'd suddenly found her whole world in one little person._

_He'd entered without talking, flicking a glance at where Wash had been sitting before the pilot had gone in search of foodstuffs. He took the chair next to her bed, putting his feet up on the coverlet and watching as she looked at her son._

"_Guess he's gonna be crawlin' fer a while before he can walk."_

_She had smiled. "Can't even crawl yet…but I don't mind carryin' him."_

That person was currently being kissed goodbye by Book, who ran a hand over River's stomach as if it could bring them luck on their journey. Vera nodded to Mal as he moved up the plank, face drawn and eyes tight, the weight of her son's slide into darkness hurting her.

Book reluctantly passed Matthew back to his father.

_The two month old baby stared at him, and he stared back. This was a challenge, yes, but if he could survive Haven he could survive a diaper change. The baby burbled impatiently and he sighed, carefully unsnapping the little buttons on his jersey._

_Zoe laughed. "He ain't gonna bite you preacher."_

_River approached, running a finger over Matthew's tubby little belly and smiling at him. "Worried. Worried he will break, shatter in a million pieces and be no more."_

_Book huffed. "I am perfectly capable of changing a child's diaper without breaking him."_

_She lifted and brow and shot him a look usually reserved for her brother. He couldn't help but chuckle warmly at the familiar glance before he sighed._

"_If you would be so kind as to show me?"_

_She sniffed at him primly. "But how will he ever learn?"_

Mattie wove between River and Vera, even Kaylee scratching his ears for support as they watched their family depart. Every person standing there wished they were on that boat, anxious at the thought of only three crewmen heading out in search of someone sliding so far down so dark a path.

They couldn't, they knew they couldn't.

The three men on that boat were the best bet Jayne had for this world, and any more would only leave the others without protection. Matthew squirmed unhappily as his beloved grandpa and godfather disappeared, even reaching for Simon as the ship began to initiate its take-off sequence. Zoe stroked her son's head and knew, without a doubt, that no matter what the Captain and the others were heading into, she could not leave her baby.

And given the bloody path Jayne seemed to be cutting out, her boy would not be safe on board Serenity.

Still stung.

Ginger clicked her teeth as they moved away. "They'll be alright. They'll find him."

Nobody could voice the concern that they would indeed find Jayne, and that the man they discovered would be so far withdrawn into the darkness that he would never be retrieved. River didn't blink as the dust began to fly from the ground, upset by Serenity's engines. Her dress fluttered out, and the cargo jacket was clutched more tightly around her shoulders as Serenity disappeared from sight.

"Things are going to get much, much worse."

They headed back to the house slowly, as if their limbs were weighed down with every stress, every moment of tension, every bit of darkness that seemed to be encroaching on them. Kaylee clung to Inara, realizing that the ex-Companion was clinging just as hard.

Vera saw River and Mattie splinter off, and when the girl looked back she knew to leave them to their walk. No violence was raging, not at the moment, but seeing her brother, her father, her grandfather embark on their mission was enough to have cracked at the shallow shell of control she had been fighting for.

They didn't see the predators in their midst.

Khan nudged Jenson from the corner table of the café in which they were sitting. Patrons milled about, and they were here to assess the crowd, the levels of panic. Not yet anything to be concerned about, but the slightest hum of tension was in the air as people began to whisper about the Phaedre virus once more.

Khan gestured to the street and Jenson followed his line of sight. A girl was walking in the middle of the road, dark curls blown back by the wind. Her slight frame was wrapped in a heavy cargo jacket, and the enormous black dog at her side was keeping her slow pace. Jenson shrugged.

"So?"

Khan shot him a grin as he flicked open a data projector under the table. A mugshot whizzed onto the screen, and Jenson smirked when he saw it.

"Chan's been looking for her for a while now."

Khan was looking down at the shot when Jenson grabbed his arm. He looked up, and his mouth dropped open. The jacket had been blown back slightly by the wind, showing her figure for the barest of seconds.

It was enough.

The thin frame was supporting a swollen stomach. The bonus gleamed in both their eyes, thoughts of respect at bringing in the Academy's finest candidate and whatever offspring she was carrying filling their heads. Khan reached for his side arm, ready to stand and take her down, but Jenson grabbed his arm, shaking his head.

"No, not now."

"Why the _guay_ not?"

Khan watched as a man walked slightly too close to the girl and the huge dog bared its teeth in a silent snarl. Brown eyes flashed as she noted the man's proximity, and the innocent trader's step picked up to take him far away from the fierce dog and fiercer teenager.

Jenson smirked. "She's got a bodyguard, and Chan warned us that she was dangerous."

Khan nodded as he sat back down. "But…soon?"

Jenson grinned.

"Yeah, real soon."

* * *

The ship took off into the Black, Mal pushing the hardest burn possible. The initial journey to Purgatum from Persephone had been one of forced leisurely pace – this time they needed speed on their side. It shouldn't take more than a few days to get to Persephone, though the trip would use up their meagre fuel cells rapidly.

The Captain wanted speed.

Book sat silently in the co-pilot's chair as Mal stared out into the Black. Neither spoke. Elsewhere on the ship Simon tried to breathe normally as he stepped into the washroom, needing to clean himself for the third time that day.

As if he could ever wash those images from his skin.

He stopped at the sink, eyes flicking to the toothpaste.

_Simon blinked, confused. He'd come to the bathroom looking for toothpaste – his own end of the Tam manor had mysteriously run out. He had expected River to be showering, unlikely to mind if he stole hers, but it was odd to see their father in the bathroom. Especially staring into the shower block like that._

_River, all of 13 years old, was standing in the shower with a towel clutched around her body. Her hair was wet against her neck, little droplets indicating that she had only just finished her ablutions. The thin little arms and legs she had sported since she was a toddler were offset by the slightest changes that indicated puberty, the merest bumps on her chest that rose and fell as her breathing quickened._

_Why was his father here?_

_Why was he staring at her like that?_

_Simon cleared his throat._

"_What are you doing?"_

_Gabriel Tam turned rapidly, as if he hadn't heard Simon enter. River's eyes flicked to her brother, the towel gripped a little tighter, and Simon had the oddest sense that he had entered the bathroom exactly when he was meant to. Brown eyes held his and he thought he saw relief, gratitude._

_Which was strange._

_His father pushed past him, muttering about people using too much water…which was another oddity, considering the system that fed their vast gardens used more water than most regular households. Simon couldn't move for a moment, and River stepped out of the shower block carefully._

_She looked up at her big brother, home from medicad for the first time in a while. She reached over and handed him the toothpaste without a word._

_For the rest of his life Simon would wonder why a household full of maids had somehow left his bathroom without toothpaste. He would wonder if maybe someone had stolen his toothpaste, secreted it in their own bathroom._

_And be grateful that they had._

Simon fought the urge to be sick into the nearby toilet as another wave of violent, vile images overtook his psyche. He lost the battle, heaving the contents of his stomach into the bowl.

* * *

"I…I don't understand. He's not showing any symptoms of illness…maybe y'all have it wrong?"

Compassionate eyes. "No ma'am, the rash he's exhibiting is classic Phaedre presentation. It is a common occurrence in…establishments such as these. Higher infection rate due to exposure you see."

"No…no! I'm always careful, an' no clients ever come near him! Please, you can't…he's so little!"

"Ma'am, if you want him to grow any bigger, you'll have to let us take him."

Another voice in the darkness, lost in the night.

* * *

_He ate. The food was real, making him speed up his shovelling movements as the bread made his mouth water. Across from him, comfortably cross-legged in the grass, she sat. Brown eyes sparkled as she lifted the tiny baby in her arms, pulling faces and giggling as the little one responded. She was clad in his jacket against the wind, their child wrapped warmly, though the cold set his wife's cheeks pink._

_Beautiful._

_She moved towards him, turning so she could rest in the space between his long legs, their little creation mumbling nonsensically as its father continued to enjoy the meal she had laid out. Her thin shoulders pressed into his chest, and he wrapped one arm tightly around her waist, his fingers turning into playthings for the curious little hands that she held in her lap._

_She tilted her head back, whisky eyes locking with his, and her smile was radiant. "Protector."_

_He tipped the hood of the cargo jacket back, kissing the top of her chocolate curls. "Better believe it baby-girl."_

_A happy little laugh sounded as the tiny baby in her lap played with the ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. He grinned, abandoning the sandwich in order to clutch his world with both arms, one trailing over the slim collarbones and delicate neck of his wife, the other tickling his child's stomach._

_A crack of lightning broke through their peaceful blue sky._

_Everything changed._

_Suddenly he was in a filthy room, a dark factory, one hand wrapped too tightly around thin wrists and the other anchored her hips in place for harsh thrusts. Cold concrete at his knees, the body underneath him thin and far too icy._

_He looked down at a corpse covered in blood, its stomach swollen._

_He woke up screaming._

He looked into unfamiliar eyes. Twelve people were staring down at him, now privy to the ventilation shaft in which he had concealed himself. Hands were heading for side arms rapidly as their eyes filled with anger.

"_Wasn't Reavers…Reavers don't leave no survivors."_

The violence took over, comingling with his disgust and self-hatred until every blow, every wound, ever slice of a knife or shot of a gun tied into his dark world as easily as breathing. Tendons snapped, bones broke, and screams filled the recycled air as he let the violence roam free.

Hours later he disembarked.

He looked down at his hands, wondering why they were so covered in blood.

So much blood.


	30. Chapter 30

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Urgh, part of this chapter makes me uncomfortable to write, but I'm trying to think like an evil person…please no that it in no way reflects my views. At all. Quite the opposite in fact.

* * *

He moved closer and closer to the area, knowing exactly where he was going without knowing entirely why. This place of damage, destruction, this place of loss and cruelty, of guilt and shame and white hot desire unlike anything he'd ever felt before. His hands were tacky with drying blood, his face marked from where he'd run his fingers over his forehead and through the hair he had removed entirely at the laboratory.

The razor hadn't been sharp, it had left some dull grazes along his head, but the shorn hair was better for keeping cool. He had long ago discarded his tank, only wearing his cargos and boots as some remnant of survival instinct demanded certain areas stay protected. His heart was thumping against his ribcage, and he had no need for further encumbrances that would increase his already skyrocketing body temperature.

He was being followed, could feel eyes on his back, but no scavengers approached, and they seemed to be waiting just as he was. Didn't matter.

He stepped inside the charred remains of the place he'd left his humanity behind.

It wasn't here, lying in wait to be scooped up and placed back in the gaping hole he felt in his chest.

A blood stain on the floor that had yet to be washed away by the elements. There had been a body there, he was sure of it, but whether it was a decimated corpse or a slim, bruised, broken and battered girl was unknown. He knelt beside it, hating himself as he inhaled.

Blood on her thigh, stark red against porcelain skin, screaming his actions louder than an engine roar.

The interior was blackened from where flame had licked through it, concrete scorched from the petrol that had been spilled to start the initial fire. This had been a lifetime ago, why did the building still stand? Had someone rendered it a monument to his vileness, pus seeping throughout his body, filling him with energy and violence and blood and disgust?

The place stank of a long faded char, of blood and screams, of something else.

Something that coated his nostrils and throat and left honey thick marks along both. Something that twisted into his mind and psyche and called, begged, pleaded and howled. Something that set his heart racing, his blood charging, his cock harder than a diamond and desperate for release. His muscles strained with the urge to attack.

The same something that had led to the destruction of his world.

And hers.

Jagged, long disbelieved memories splintered through his mind. Some might have been his, some must have been from elsewhere, all shouted their hatred and disgust, reminding him of the war he had waged and won and lost.

"_Jayne is a girl's name."_

A tease, a playful joke met with crudity. Sick foreshadowing of things to come.

"_She goes woolly on us we're gonna have'ta put a bullet it her."_

Desperation, put a bullet, end this torment and that smell.

_Filthy girl, traipsing around this house like a vile ghost, a succubus trying to lure him down the darkest of paths a father could be lured._

Written words, a debt long collected and yet never truly paid.

_That thing lying on the floor, head smashed and mark screaming out its relations: MA._

A swollen stomach, a burden, a sin he would never rid himself of. He hadn't walked down the darkest of paths; he had sprinted, faster and faster, until the woods grew darker and deeper with every step.

He sank to his knees, clutching his head as his heart raced faster and faster, the adrenaline becoming too much. The violence spilled over, and he let his hands reach out, rip and render asunder, destroy.

The self-disgust grew.

The viciousness increased.

Freedom.

* * *

It took them just three days to arrive on Persephone, but the journey had been less than pleasant. Simon had been withdrawn, confining himself to the infirmary and whatever data he had stored on the cortex. Mal had spent his time on the bridge or in his bunk, the latter failing to provide the comfort of solitude that it once had; he missed her.

Book forced them to attend meals, to speak, albeit about any quiet, easy topics that he could think of without touching on their mission. The preacher would ignore their silence, filling the air with stories of Matthew, of crew hijinks, of anything and everything he could think of to drown out the deafening silence. When they finally landed on Persephone they had breathed a collective sigh of relief, heading straight for Badger's.

One of his guards led them into the office, which was surprisingly clear of the usual mess of armed men he had around him. Badger's head was slumped over the desk, the usually cluttered space now clear of everything but a holo projector and those brass scales he had there for as long as any of them could remember.

He looked up, gesturing to the food laid out, though recognising that none of them had much of an appetite.

Mal shook his head. "_Xie xie_, but we're just here fer any info you got on our boy."

Badger nodded. "Yes…your boy. Cap'n, you got any idea as to what exac'ly 'e's been up to of late?"

Mal kept his face calm. Badger wasn't trying to be provocative; there was genuine concern in his eyes, though for whom it was for could still be debated.

"Can't say that I do, 'spect he ain't been so pleasant to be around."

Badger nodded, flicking on the holo vid projector. "Been gettin' these offa the cortex, come from all over."

A young man appeared, the coord link at the bottom said he was from Halo. _"...took out Galaticus, ain't nobody ever landed a punch on him an'…he jus'…laid him flat, snapped his neck. Those eyes…"_

Another man, the one middle aged, from Isis. _"…all of them were killed, the explosion at the docks took out at least twenty men, and at the vault? They were massacred."_

An angry woman from Kydent. _"Left bodies across the room..."_

Belleraphon. _"Stole all the data discs in the facility, we didn't even know they had a lab here! And the technicians…"_

Bellyx. _"The Alliance has always used us for behavioural studies; I wonder what the victims would say about this man…he's a psychopath."_

Phosphorus. _"No soul…"_

Lilac. _"Blood everywhere…"_

New Melbourne. _"Huge, like a monster from stories!"_

Hyperion. _"…ship left strewn with bodies…"_

Merchant. _"Tortured them…"_

Tontine. _"Covered in tattoos, he didn't even flinch when he was grazed by the bullet…"_

Onyx. _"One man had both shoulders dislocated before being shot…"_

Persephone. _"A stomach wound; he executed him on the floor!"_

A woman appeared in a maid's uniform, her eyes wide and frightened. _"He…he barely left anything! Mr…the master was left in pieces…"_

Mal saw Simon clap a hand over his mouth, and noted the coordinates of the last wave. Osiris. The doctor stared. "Gerta…our head maid…"

Badger nodded. "That one was 'ard…said he tore that one's meat an' veg right off, left 'em on the ground beside the body."

_Why was father staring at her like that?_

He turned to Mal. "Cap'n, last time you was 'ere there was some nasty stuff said 'bout Cobb, I didn't wanna believe it…but this?"

Mal swallowed as the sound was flicked off the holo projector, frightened faces tight with horror and concern. Book had turned grey as scene after scene of security footage accompanied the terrified narrators, depicting bloody violence, dark rage. He watched as Jayne as Jayne shot one man in the stomach, another's arms nearly torn off as he dislocated them and questioned him.

Mal set his face firm. "We need ta find him, have an idea he may have come here. You know anything?"

Badger nodded warily. "Ya ain't wrong…there's an abandoned factory 'cross town, got set on fire a while back. Found a body inside…my boys 'ave 'im surrounded there."

Mal's eyes widened and then narrowed. "If he knows they're there-"

Badger scoffed without humour. "They wouldn't go near 'im, said 'e went inside 'bout an' hour ago, an' they've 'eard crashes and smashes ever since. Jus' kept 'em lookin' out, none o' them would approach…not at what I pay 'em."

Mal nodded and turned to leave, Badger's voice halting him at the door.

"Mal, the girl…what Cobb did-"

"Don't matter now."

Badger blinked. "Wot?"

Mal turned back to him. "Don't matter. We're reachin' the end game, an' one way or t'other I'm gettin' him back on my ship."

Badger looked over the side arms that Book and Simon were uncharacteristically carrying. "You don't care if 'e comes alive, do ya?"

Mal strode through the door, followed by his men and throwing his words over his shoulder.

"Jus' need whatever's left of him back."

* * *

_Skin sliding over skin, eliciting sighs and moans. Calloused hands trailing a silken neck, down over her ribcage, between her thighs. Murmured whispering in her ear, her beauty, her sensuality boiled down into hissed expletives and strained growls that made her heart race._

_Wrapping hands over black decorated shoulders, tracing patterns as she gasped into his ear, stubble scratching at her face as her body began to shake. Broad chest, thickly muscled arms against her searching hands that examined the large frame over her own, comforting and welcome._

_He pulled back._

_Changed._

_Warm blue eyes became cold and feral, her own recognising intent and releasing wildness and darkness into the room._

_The hands gripped her tightly enough to bruise, the lips at her neck became teeth holding her in place without mercy, her screams pierced the night, the violence leaving scars across them both._

She woke up screaming, darting backwards awkwardly as the swollen stomach prohibited her movements. Her friend was cowering at the foot of the bed, kicked off by dangerous ballerina toes as her nightmares consumed her.

Warm blue eyes stared down at her, a slim body with muscles tensed in case the violence spilled over.

Vera carefully raised a hand, running it through River's hair, damp with sweat. The girl was shivering, her thin nightgown doing little to keep her warm without the large, furry body she had taken to sleeping beside.

She clicked her fingers once at Mattie, who retrieved the cargo jacket from the other end of the bed. The whisky brown eyes held hers, barely controlled as she slipped the heavy material over thin shoulders, and Vera made a quick decision.

"Get yer boots girl; we're goin' inta the woods."

* * *

Zoe met Inara at the breakfast table, the ex-Companion absently tickling Matthew's feet as his mother sat down with him in her lap. Both women had dark circles under their eyes, the same ones that matched Kaylee's, and when Wash came in for breakfast he was quiet as he kissed his wife good morning.

Ginger entered carrying another pot of coffee, and clicked her tongue as she looked down at them. "Now, if this isn't the saddest looking table in the 'verse I don't know what is."

Wash shot her a look. "Seems there isn't much to feel too happy about."

Ginger nodded as she sat. "You might be right. But moping doesn't help anyone. Vera's taken Mattie and River out, said they might be a while. We've got a full house booked so I haven't got anyone to go to market for me. Inara, Zoe, why don't you take Matthew for a walk and do some grocery shopping? Kaylee and Wash can help me set up the new water heater they rigged a while back."

The remaining crew were silent, reluctant to be split up but knowing that distraction was necessary if they were going to survive the next few days. Mal had waved them from Persephone, and a tired looking Badger had let them know that their missing members were on their way to Jayne.

Which failed to inspire a great deal of confidence in anyone.

They pulled themselves to their feet, and a half hour later Zoe was walking with Inara through the town to the marketplace. There was an odd feeling of tension, the usual dry heat had a chill to it this morning, and Inara was relieved that they were both armed.

They moved passed a café, Matthew staring around at the sights and smells of Purgatum.

* * *

Kahn waited, leaning against the wall as Jenson listened to the voice at the other end of the comm unit. His teammate turned back, nodding once. "Told the boss we saw 'em leavin' early in the mornin', he's sendin' a team out. She's got that beast with her again, and that mouthy house mistress, but it shouldn't be a problem."

Kahn flicked his cigarette to the dusty ground, an annoyed look on his face. "Chan's gonna let them take the bonus?"

Jenson nodded. "We get the finder's fee, but Chan says since it would take more than us to bring her in unscathed he's gotta spare trained types."

Kahn spat. "Well that ain't exactly the outcome I was hopin' for. With the others doin' the grabs all we have is lookout duty in case a riot seems near…and nobody here seems to have clicked into panic mode yet."

The tension in town may have been slowly thickening as whispers and rumours of the virus began to spread, but it had yet to reach any kind of fever pitch. They both knew the reason, it was the same reason Chan always directed his men to the cathouses; nobody else cared.

Jenson nodded, leaning against the wall beside his teammate as two women strode past. "Damn annoying is right, the cathouses are bein' hit quiet like, and Chan reckons they still need more."

Kahn nudged his elbow into Jensen's gut, jutting out his chin in the direction the women had been walking. "Ever get sick of the wild dogs 'round here?"

Jenson looked at him curiously. "Yeah, those packs are vicious. The whitecoats reckon it's cuz they're so mixed, they live longer. Plus they have better immunity than pure breeds."

"Good mixed genetics, resilient, right?"

Jenson narrowed his eyes. "Yeah…what're you gettin' at?"

Kahn smirked and Jensen followed his eyeline. The tall woman with mocha skin and the walk of a soldier had a baby boy strapped to her chest.

His skin was a lighter caste, a light smattering of freckles across chubby little cheeks underneath…blue eyes.

Jenson exhaled. "Well I'll be damned…"

Kahn grinned. "Reckon Chan might be pleased? Could get a damn hefty bonus for that one."

Jenson nodded. "Damn right he would be…but ain't no way the mother's gonna fall for the Phaedre spiel."

It was true. The woman had the controlled presence of someone who was unlikely to brook much nonsense, and her companion, though more stylishly dressed, was sporting a sidearm that looked oddly out of place against her silk gown.

Kahn tilted his head. The marketplace was nearly empty, the few stall merchants handing over goods as their shifts ended. The only way back to where the women had walked from was past the less inhabited side of town…Kahn would have called it the bad side, but around here they were all pretty damn bad.

He looked over at his teammate. "And we need her alive, why?"

Jenson grinned. "I like you Kahn."

* * *

Mal approached Badger's man with caution, the tightness of his grip around the rifle indicating his level of fear. Book and Simon looked ahead, to where the factory was slowly being swallowed by the encroaching night.

Whatever sounds Badger's boys had been hearing were dead now, and Mal moved forward carefully, his weapon at the ready but not pointing up; no need to startle anyone.

The factory stank of dried blood and old char, and Mal wondered how so many months could go by and leave that smell behind. The interior was dark, and they flicked on their torches carefully, drawn to the faintest scraping sounds in the far end of the room.

Splintered beams, shattered windows, broken crates strewn over the floor. Whatever the fire had failed to destroy had been decimated by whatever had come through here, leaving only destruction in its wake. There was a familiar duffel bag thrown in the corner, but the owner wasn't with it.

Another scrape had Mal spinning, and suddenly a large figure was blocking their only exit.

He moved his torch slowly up from the ground, passing heavy steel capped boots, filthy cargo pants, a bare chest and thick arms now wrapped entirely in black ink and scarring, and up further.

Resting on haunted blue eyes.


	31. Chapter 31

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine

**A/N: **Ok, I didn't do this so well in the last chap, so just to clarify...Jayne is not bald. Jayne's hair is shorn really short, but Jayne is not bald...largely because, as dark and horrible as this story is, that'd be a little too ridiculous a mental pic for me to take seriously :P

* * *

"_Doesn't matter that we took him off that boat Shepherd; that's where he's gonna live from now on."_

He was filthy. Skin darkened from sun exposure was covered in smudges of grease and dirt, temples baring reddish smears where the blood on his hands had been wiped. Facial hair was roughly shaved, as if by knife, to reduce heat, and his face was gaunt. His hair was shorn short, roughly cut close to his scalp, there was no sign of a shirt, and a thin sheen of sweat coated his inked skin. Faded bruises and scarring wove between the swirling black into covering his torso, arms, shoulders and neck.

Mal heard a sharp exhale behind him, the sound making the blue eyes flick to the other inhabitants of the room. No recognition was in those eyes; whatever ghosts were chasing him had consumed his reality.

_A lifetime ago, a ship whose crew had yet to fully meet, a question asked after a dismissal._

"_What do you pay him for?"_

"_What?"_

"_I was curious... what is his job on this ship?"_

_Quick thinking._

"_... Public relations"_

They watched as muscled tensed, lowering him into an attack position, a low growl echoing through the factory battle ground as one hand pulled Binky from behind his back. The blade was clean, an odd counterpart to the man holding it. Mal fought the urge to cock his weapon, somehow all too aware that the sound would set off imminent violence.

Mal kept his voice low. "Jayne, its Mal. It's Captain Reynolds."

Lip curled, teeth bared.

"Jayne, you in there?"

A flicker behind the eyes, tiny and fleeting, but there nonetheless.

Book's voice was a forced calm. "Son, we're your crewmates. You know us."

Simon swallowed thickly. "Is he…do you recognise us?"

Mal felt the air tighten as torchlight hit Binky, the holder's eyes narrowing in confusion.

"_Gorramit_ Jayne, quit playin' right now!"

The flicker returned. Frustration and annoyance twisted over his face, and when he spoke his voice was gravelled, hoarse, as if it had spent long hours tearing screams from his throat.

"Cap'n?"

Mal nodded. "That I am, an' yer my merc, an' I'ma need ya ta come with us."

Rage and disgust.

"Can't…can't. Gotta be here."

Mal shook his head. "No we don't, we need ya elsewhere."

Shoulder twitch. "Lots o' blood…so much blood. Left a trail o' it ta get back here."

"I know Jayne, but there are nicer places ta die iffen that's still what ya want."

Tongue darting out over cracked lips. "Here. Here's where…gotta be here."

Something clicked in Mal's head. His eyes flicked around the filthy factory, broken beams and shattered windows suddenly screaming out a story of darker, more vicious violence than they had before. Badger had said someone set this place on fire months back, and the man in front of him was looking at it like some kind of sickening monument. His eyes shut of their own volition, as if he could fight the images his mind was giving him.

"This…this is where ya…that night?"

Simon's voice shook. "Oh god…"

Jayne took a step forward, and Mal fought the urge to take one backwards. His voice grew stronger, taking on a tone of assurance and demand. "Here. Gotta be here. Got a promise ta keep, got a debt ta pay."

Book struggled to stay calm. "No need for it son, you don't-"

A snarl rang through, desperate and furious, the eyes still locked on Mal's. "You swore. Swore you'd end it. I done my bit, need that bullet now."

Mal forced authority into his tone. "That weren't the agreement; you still owe her a visit."

Something dark flashed in those eyes and Mal had the strangest feeling that although this thing wore Jayne's face, spoke with Jayne's voice, it was not the man they had left behind. He was starting to wonder if it was a man at all. The lip curled into a cold sneer, his eyes narrowing as if deciding on a different tactic.

"Trust me 'round her?"

"Ain't 'bout that, we can fight ya-"

"Fight me?" The chuckle was dark and terrifying. The biceps flexed, drawing attention to the muscled form, stripped entirely of body fat after months of near starvation and hard tracking. The knuckles were scarred from long use, and although the form was somewhat leaner, there was no mistaking the energy ready to explode.

"Ya think ya can fight me?"

"Maybe not, but the girl-"

"Like this place? Ain't got no candlelight but it did fine."

To his right Mal saw Simon's arms shake as Jayne trained his eyes on the doctor. "Shoulda heard the screamin' Doc."

Book sounded tense and angry. "Don't try to provoke them son, they need you alive."

Another laugh, this one a cackle with an edge to it. "Fer what?" Tongue running over teeth. "Got more teenagers fer me?"

Simon narrowed his eyes. "It won't work Jayne, we know what they did to you; The Program set down on Purgatum and-"

"They make me enjoy it? Gotta say, still dream 'bout it some nights, wake up tastin' cherries an' blood."

Mal gritted his teeth. "Just come with us, ain't like ya got somethin' else planned, an' ya still owe her."

The cockiness was gone, leaving desperation and anxiety, eyes haunted as he took another step closer. "End it, do yer ruttin' bit an' end it. Here. Died here anyhow, so finish it, now!"

"You gotta hear her out!"

"Heard it! Saw it! I done left enough o' a reminder fer her, ain't I? Gonna have that one fer a lifetime!"

Mal shook his head. "You don't get ta decide that; only she gets to say when you've paid up."

Another snarl, muscles tensing again, ready to spring forward. For a split second Mal wished he would, wished the threat of violence necessitated the gun shot, wished that the begging would stop and the shame and fury would die in Jayne's eyes.

"END IT!"

"NO!"

_Jayne looked across the table at Book, still shell-shocked from the Haven massacre and the revelation of Miranda's dark secret._

"_Preacher always said, iffen ya can't do somethin' smart, do somethin' right."_

Jayne leapt.

Mal's finger tightened on the trigger.

Milliseconds before his head was blown away a heavy wooden beam was swung into his skull. The massive form dropped to the ground, knocked unconscious by the harsh blow. There was no twitch, only the sharp, shallow breathing that echoed through the cavernous room. Even knocked out the exhaustion on his face was visible, offset by the dried blood and homemade crew cut.

Mal stared at Book, still holding the plank and panting heavily. The preacher looked at him, eyes set and face tense. Mal nodded once.

"Thank you."

Book dropped the plank with a clang as Simon moved to check Jayne's vitals. He swept up the duffel bag in the corner, moving to help them begin the process of shifting the body back to Serenity. Book looked at Mal carefully.

"I didn't just do it for you."

* * *

It took all three of them but they managed to drag Jayne's prone form back to the ship. Simon had the infirmary prepared, and he issued a shot of smoother into Jayne's neck to give them more time. The usual leather restraints available were discarded in favour of heavy manacles around Jayne's wrists and ankles.

Simon hooked him to a monitor. "Heart rate is much faster than normal, though no indication of tachycardia or cardiac arrest. Temperature is…102. My god…he said a long time ago that he was running hotter than usual but that…we're at severe risk of brain damage."

Mal looked down at his unconscious merc. "Might be a lil too late ta worry 'bout that Doc. Do what ya can, I'ma take us off world."

"_I've met him, I think he's a psychotic lowlife."_

"_And I think that's an insult to the psychotic lowlife community."_

As he headed to the bridge he heard the wave alert, catching it and starting up Serenity at the same time. Badger's anxious face appeared, eyes flicking over Mal's exhausted expression as Book entered the bridge.

"Ya get 'im? Alive?"

Mal nodded. "Yeah, we got him. Knocked him out an' dragged him back."

Mal knew what Badger was going to ask before he could ask it. "I wanna come with you lot. Reckon I could 'elp."

Mal shook his head. "No can do, we ain't takin' extra passengers right now."

Badger pursed his lips angrily. "I wanna see the girl, an' I gots contacts-"

Book's voice was kind but firm. "No. When we get to Purgatum we don't really know what will happen. If…if something should go wrong whoever survives will need to know there is another safe place in the 'verse."

Badger couldn't argue, he understood the logic. Not a man on Serenity was entirely sure if they would survive the trip back, let alone whatever was waiting for them on Purgatum. He felt the barest flash of pride that Reynolds would trust him to provide a safe haven should something happen, and then became equally concerned that it would be required.

"Wot about the girl?"

Mal sighed as he took Serenity into the air. "She's pregnant."

Badger looked like he'd been hit in the face, shock and worry and fear all warring across his features. The street rat in him took over, and he narrowed his eyes at Mal.

"Gonna need ya ta do somethin' for me Cap'n."

* * *

Ginger's eyes widened as Katrina showed her guest into the main lobby area. "Liddy Temple? Haven't seen you in here since…well…never."

Liddy Temple was on the heavier side of curvaceous, but she had a reputation as one of the fiercer house madams on Purgatum. For her to venture into a rival house was highly unusual; although her conditions were never quite as good as Vera's, she was notoriously protective of her territory and her girls.

Liddy nodded. "Thought we needed a palaver…Ginger, it's happening again."

Ginger tilted her head curiously until suddenly the barely controlled fear in Liddy's eyes sent her back to a memory she had hated and fought for years.

_Vera, fifteen years old and scrawny, running into the sitting room with Mattie hot on her heels. Despite her age the blue eyes flashed furiously, and Ginger was filled with concern at whatever was making her ward react like this._

_The answer was simple._

"_They've taken Jayne."_

Ginger began to shake, suddenly all too aware that the charges in her house were in danger, and she brought her hand to her mouth as her eyes widened. Liddy nodded, looking much older than her 60 years as she finally let her worry show through.

"Jessica's got taken a few days ago, an' now Margaret too…other houses are sayin' the same thing. Ginger…it's back, the Phaedre virus is back, an' I know ya don't believe in it but I had ta warn ya."

Ginger's voice trembled. "I don't believe in it because it never existed. I've…I've gotta make a call."

She flipped open her comm unit, desperate to reach Vera.

* * *

Zoe woke up in agony. They were somewhere on the outskirts of town, near the edge of the forest in a ditch. She sat up, flinching when a couple of broken ribs made their presence known. Her right arm was broken, one ankle was throbbing testily, and her eyes flicked over to Inara's prone form. A head wound was visible on her left temple, blood trickling out.

_They'd picked up their goods and begun to head back to the house when a man had approached them, asking for directions. Zoe had been uncomfortable, standing back as Inara gave him a gracious smile and firm words. They'd given him their best approximation when suddenly the eyes that had previously looked embarrassed and lost became smug and dark._

"_So this part o' town's pretty empty, huh?"_

_Zoe had clutched Matthew tighter, the other hand reaching for her Mare's Leg, when suddenly the world went dark._

Dread began to spread throughout her body, and she fought to pull herself upright despite the damage. She gasped, from the pain and the realization that her worst fears were coming to life. She dragged herself to Inara's side shaking her friend with increasingly desperate words starting to flood from her mouth.

_Kaylee and Inara were playing hide and seek with her giggling son. She kissed his forehead, sitting back to watch the game as Wash wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He turned to whisper in her ear._

"_Wifey, we made that."_

_Her boy, beautiful and tiny, let out another peel of laughter as River joined the little group. Zoe leaned her head on her husband's chest. It was still barely believable, that they had created something so wonderful, so special, so perfect._

"'Nara? 'Nara, you gotta wake up, we gotta go, we gotta find him. 'Nara! 'Nara please wake up I've gotta find him!"

Inara's eyes fluttered and her lips released a pained, exhausted word. "Wha…?"

Her eyes closed again as the head wound made its presence known, slipping back into unconsciousness. Zoe ignored the tears and the pain as her broken bones shifted and her throat began to close in fear. She had been shot, tortured, undergone sane heists and insane quests and survived them all. She had stood down weapons, vile people, seen her husband's tortured form and refused to blink.

She could have sworn she heard the sound of her heart breaking.

Her baby boy was gone, she was badly injured, they had taken her comm unit and her friend was wounded. Her voice came out very small and fragile.

"'Nara, they have Matthew."

* * *

Vera was a fit woman. Her entire life had been spent enjoying the wildness of her home planet; she could run with the best of them. But today she was feeling exhausted. River had set a gruelling pace, and would only slow when Mattie forced her to stop and drink water, eat food for the baby in her stomach.

The pace had been relentless, and when Vera saw River stop up ahead she fought the urge to breathe a sigh of relief.

She entered the clearing. "Darlin', you want some more water?"

Suddenly she became aware of Mattie pacing anxiously as River stayed frozen, head tilted as she listened. One thin arm twitched, and she turned, pinning Vera in place with brown eyes filled with horror and anger.

"The gift."

Before Vera could ask what was going on the girl was bolting back, Mattie hot on her heels. Vera sprinted after them, pulling out her comm and breathlessly calling out to Ginger on the other end.

"Ging, something's wrong, the girl's in a panic, we're heading back."

The voice that came back to them was frightened and teary. "Vera…Vera you gotta come back right now! Vera?"

Her comm cut out and she cursed the useless battery life, wishing she had checked it before they had left as she normally always did. She pushed herself to keep up with River, sprinting through trees, rocks, skipping over a snake and avoiding a redback web. She pushed herself harder, desperate to catch up to her family, old and new.

She rounded a clearing and stopped dead.

No.

* * *

_Stealing gifts away to turn them into nightmares, all the presents stolen, can't look under the tree and where oh where are the collectors? Need to stop it, fight it, end it. Bodyguard and friend at side, pushing just as hard, the stakes just as high._

_A niggling on her consciousness. _

_Can't dwell, have to get to them, have to stop them before…_

_Snap._

_The niggling, the springing of the trap._

She stopped in the clearing, breathing heavily as she looked around. They rose out of the bushes slowly, energy blasters pointed at her head, her heart, her child's home. So many, smug faces and wary glances as they located the target.

Grandmother stopping just outside the clearing, ready to assess the situation and begin the fight. Canine friend stopping just before clearing, awaiting an attack order.

Vera crouched low, reaching for her weapon when she saw River's eyes flick to her for a bare second, her head shaking minutely. The girl knew something she didn't, and Vera knew to listen. Mattie strained beside her, but Vera lay a hand on his neck to keep him in place, other hand wrapped around her side arm waiting for an order.

River knew what was coming. One of the men stepped forward, that same smugness on his features. Pretty prized pony for the pinching. Capture, take, reacquire lost possession.

"River Tam, we're going to need you to come with us."

Her hand twitched and fifteen weapons were cocked simultaneously.

_Overhanging tree branch, upwards flip to avoid initial attack, closest opponent's neck snapped, weapon acquired before appropriate response for others, two more targets disabled followed by-_

"Acquiesce. Risk of fetal distress too significant to be advantageous. Acquiesce to medical personal for examination and reacquisition immediately."

_Too many. Even neutralizing those nearby would still leave her family at risk, friend and grandmother laid out dead on the forest floor before she could blink._

Training kicked in as she stared at the man.

Smug smile.

The obedience strung through her body, her eyes narrowed but her head hung down. She felt her companions on the outskirts of the clearing, willing them to stay out of sight. Tears sprung up but her hands came forward, baring her wrists for recapture. No chance of escape, risk of damage to a friend, to her child, was too high.

The training blossomed when met with her own knowledge that the math didn't add up to success, and as the cold steel locked around her wrists she felt one tear slip over her cheek before her programming took over. The medical personal led her away, and she didn't look back.

Vera stood, ready to chase after them, but was halted when Mattie latched his teeth firmly around her belt. She paused, looking out at the clearing and realizing what he was keeping her from. The traps were well hidden but her keen eyes spotted them. The path they were taking would be likely just as bugged, and she knew she couldn't go after the girl without risking all of their lives.

She needed a plan.

She turned in the direction of the house, Mattie hot on her heels as she bolted back to round up the others.

* * *

Simon sat with his head in his hands outside of the infirmary. They were in the Black, heading back to Purgatum, and the man who had fathered his sister's child by force was unconscious in his infirmary. A cold sweat broke out as his mind began to throw up the images that had been on that data disc, the violence and sickening lust and destruction.

He heaved, bringing up nothing.

Book sat beside him. The preacher didn't say a word, and Simon looked at him.

"Captain would have killed him if you hadn't knocked him out you know."

Book nodded. "I know."

Simon stared at the infirmary doors. "Some…some part of me wanted him to. Even with everything I know, even with all that has happened…I wanted him dead."

Book didn't even blink. "I understand son."

They both stared ahead silently before Simon found his voice again.

"Why…why didn't you let him?"

Book turned to look at him, and Simon was struck with the pain he saw in those brown eyes. The preacher's actions on Haven had left their wounds across his heart, and Simon was reminded of how withdrawn he'd been after the massacre, after they had found him drenched in the Alliance soldier's blood.

Book looked back into the infirmary. "There are enough scars on everyone's soul at the moment. I didn't want the Captain to take on another one just yet."

"_Couldn't help it, money was too good."_

_Stupid move._

"_Yer kiddin' right? What about my ruttin' money?"_

"_You mean my money? I expect I'll be getting it soon."_

_Jayne gritted his teeth. He hated when other people were as low as he was._

His mouth tastes like bile and his mind was throwing up more splintered images of his own filthy life. Dreams of pale legs, Reaver chases, strange moments he wasn't sure had really happened or not. He forced his eyes open, the bright lights stinging them. The room…this was the room from all the waves…the one that had been filled with people last time…the one where he'd seen the true extent of his vile existence in a swollen stomach.

He twisted his head, vomiting over the side of the bed.

Something shifted in the doorway and he looked up as someone began to run a torch in front of his pupils, testing his pulse at the same time. He struggled to move, unable to break the heavy restraints locked around his wrists and feet.

Simon looked down at him without saying a word.


	32. Chapter 32

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Hey kids, I'm sorry for the delay in this chapter, and I'm sorry it's so damn short. Between moving and health issues this week might be a bit of a minefield, and I feel like I've spent so long writing this story the way I want it written that I'd hate to sell it short by just blasting off whatever crap came to mind. Again, I'm sorry.

* * *

"_I ain't so afraid of losin' somethin' that I ain't gonna try to have it."_

Fight the grey.

Fight the endless grey that made her want to curl into a ball and weep.

Fight the grey that demanded she fall to her knees and cry out her anguish.

The grey hadn't beaten her when she had seen good men killed in wars they didn't understand, when her crew had been in danger, when her husband had nearly been impaled. The grey hadn't dragged her down as she saw the atrocities of human beings and their actions against one another.

Step by broken step she dragged herself back to the house, barely holding on to her fallen comrade with her only good arm as the other dangled uselessly by her side. She reached the front door, managing to slam her hand into it, desperate to get them help, to rally the troops, to get him back.

Matthew…

She stumbled, fell, and as she hit the ground the grey she had spent her whole life fighting saw an opening and seeped in, dark mist scorching the cavities in her heart. The pain was overwhelming, she couldn't stay conscious, and as the blackness engulfed her she knew one thing for certain.

There would be blood.

* * *

Mal squinted at the wave monitor on the bridge. Something was trying to come through but they were in deep space, at least two days from Purgatum, and the reception was being problematic. He silently cursed the fact that he didn't have Wash or Kaylee to fight with the machine for him. The signal was far out, it was most likely from Purgatum, and he could only hope that the sender would leave a recording for him to access later.

The screen flickered; he briefly saw red hair and startled green eyes. "Ginger?"

"_Cap…nolds…plea…please. Matthe…Riv….taken…injured…need help."_

Mal stared at the fractured wave screen. A tingling feeling of deep concern began to trickle down his spine, worse than the seemingly constant worry he had been feeling lately. He played the message again…and again…

His eyes widened and he set his ship for full burn; whatever was happening on Purgatum, he needed to be there.

Now.

* * *

Vera cursed her meagre medical training as she looked down at the two beaten women. Both were sedated, Zoe's ribs and arm were wrapped for the bones to set, but Inara had yet to wake up from her head wound. She'd arrived back at the house ready to send everyone after River only to find Zoe struggling up the path, Inara's prone form barely clutched in her good arm, and no sign of Matthew.

From what she could discern from Zoe's near frozen statements they had been set upon from behind, and Vera didn't want to think about the type of people who would be capable of getting one over on Reynolds' first mate. Ginger had informed her of Liddy's visit, and the reality was setting in painfully.

There was no doubt in her mind that the same people who had stolen Matthew had also taken River and all the other children being reported to have the Phaedre virus. The townsfolk were still in denial, still hoping and wishing that their little ones would be ok.

So quickly they had forgotten.

Morons.

She knelt to where Mattie was sitting, watching the women as if they might wake up at any moment. He was tense, more so than she had seen him in a long while, and she knew he wanted to run, hunt, destroy whoever took away his friend and leave their corpses for the vultures that haunted the desert plains.

She scratched a hand over his ear as Ginger entered with Kaylee. Ginger did a quick check over Zoe, stepping around Wash, who was holding her hand and far too still of a man of his personality. Vera remembered back to when they had taken Jayne; she had been young, naïve. Zoe was neither of those things, but a fast beating and quick getaway rendered the same results; her son was missing.

Wash was struggling to deal with the situation; he'd hated seeing Zoe sedated, but knew that if she wasn't she would end up damaging herself further in the attempt to get their boy back. His bright blue eyes were glassy and unfocused as he ran one hand over Zoe's, wondering how in the 'verse they could find sanctuary and a happiness unlike anything they'd ever known only to have it snatched away.

Ginger's voice was low. "Tried waving Serenity, got through what I could. We need a plan."

Vera stood. "We wait."

Wash moved for the first time in two hours, still gripping his wife's hand but turning furious eyes to Vera. "_Ni tama de tianxia suoyou de ren duo gaisi! _We wait? That's the plan? My son is out there and you're saying WE WAIT?"

"Yes!"

Wash blinked as Vera stared at him. "We ain't got nuthin' we can do right now. Yer wife needs a doctor, so does Inara, an' there's not enough fire power between us ta take 'em on. So we wait. We wait til Serenity gets here."

Kaylee's voice was small and fragile as she ran a hand over Inara's hair. "An' then?"

Vera's eyes were cold.

"An' then we tear 'em apart."

* * *

Simon looked down at the man chained to his infirmary chair. Jayne had ceased the furious pulling at his restraints, though strangely enough that wasn't particularly reassuring. The man was near feral, and Simon was all too aware that he was dangerous, likely ready to stage another attack in an attempt to be put down. The haunted blue eyes were locked on his, as if waiting for whatever killing blow he expected Simon to dole out.

"_I wonder how long he'd been living like that?"_

"_Don't know…he musta been real brave ta survive like that."_

Simon remembered the eyes on the Reaver survivor they had picked up off that wreck so long ago. Those eyes, wild and tormented, slipping into the most basic human protective instincts its broken psyche could still connect with; rage.

This was no Reaver survivor, but the look in Jayne's eyes was far too familiar, and Simon kept his voice steady as he moved over with a syringe.

"How are you feeling?"

The big man tried to flinch away but Simon had dealt with enough unruly drug addicts to be fast with his injections. Once again he was struck but the hoarseness of Jayne's voice, its eerie similarity to how River's sounded when the nightmares chased her down with a vengeance and she woke up screaming.

"You gonna kill me Doc?"

Simon narrowed his eyes.

"That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Yes."

He had expected the answer, but it still shook him. Jayne had always come across as a cockroach; no matter the tragedy, the disaster, the fallout, there would still be Jayne, unfazed and focused solely on his own survival. A kind of reassurance in a dark 'verse, knowing that no matter what happened they could count on Jayne to look after Jayne. Only they couldn't, not anymore. Simon needed to get him hooked to a nutrient bag, needed to continue checking over him to get him into the best health possible.

Though considering how ready Mal had been to grant his last wish Simon wondered about the point. Still, he was a doctor; he healed. The rage and violence in those eyes was a strange juxtaposition to the emptiness, and Simon leaned against the counter top as he addressed the other man.

"Well, I'm afraid I won't be doing that anytime soon."

"Why?"

A simple question that spoke pages as to Jayne's current state of confusion and trauma. Simon strode over to the bench, reaching into the duffel bag they had found with their wayward crewman and pulling out the captures. He found the one he wanted, the one of the entire crew. It was in the best condition, meaning it had been touched the least, but if the rest of the contents of that box were anything to go by there was a good reason Jayne had kept it.

At least, he hoped.

"That's why." He held them up, watching as Jayne's eyes averted of their own accord. "You kept these for a reason, and I'm guessing it's the same reason you haven't ended it yourself yet…Jayne, there's still some part of who you were left inside you, and that part knows the debt isn't yet paid."

Jayne's hands shook and his voice was a harsh whisper. "Don't know what yer talkin' 'bout."

He didn't. Simon could see that in every movement, every twitch; Jayne wasn't here, not really. Jayne wanted to die, knew he owed blood, but even with the debts collected inked permanently on his skin his psyche wouldn't let him latch onto things fully. The coordinates, names, debts on his body still couldn't fully penetrate the mind; Simon had a strong suspicion that seeing River pregnant had broken some part of him that was barely holding the man together. He wasn't processing what was happening, what had happened, and to kill him now would be to put down a man not fully capable of seeing the whole story.

No matter how much he wanted to.

"Draggin' me back ta this piece o' _luh seh_, seein' somethin' t'ain't there."

"_Luh seh? Serenity ain't luh seh?" _

Simon lapsed into memory for a moment before knowing the answer to Jayne's comment. He hadn't known back then what he knew now. This place of metal hadn't been their house for some time, but every crew member still lived in it. They couldn't escape it, wouldn't have wanted to; this was their world.

"Serenity isn't _luh seh_, it's your home. My home. River's home. And you need that, need to be back here. I'm not going to kill you Jayne."

Jayne sneered, the expression pulling at the split lip he'd received when Book had knocked him to the ground. "Don't be so damn sure."

The eyes turned cold and calculating, and his voice took on a harsh tone of amusement. "Might change yer mind, seein' as how I left that lil thing ya call a sister brok-"

"_Bi zui!"_

"What Doc, too much? She was damn tiny too, musta hurt. Screams still ringin' through my ears. Might as well-" He stopped when Simon met his eyes, and looked at the doctor carefully. Simon flinched when Jayne seemed to recognise something he hadn't put his finger on before.

"Whatcha seen boy?"

Simon shook his head. "_Shen me? _I don't know what you're-"

Metal hissed as Jayne thrashed. "Don't fuckin' lie ta me!" His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward as far as his restraints would let him.

"That look…ya got that look. Done seen somethin' ain'tcha, somethin' won't let ya sleep, somethin' ya can't unsee."

Simon averted his eyes, hating the truth. The vid, it haunted him, clouded everything he did, twisting his thoughts until all that was left was disgust and rage. Nothing compared to the monster in front of him, the same monster whose brethren had done those vile things…

Jayne sneered again, opening his mouth to start poking and prodding once more, but Simon held up a hand.

"Jayne, don't bother."

There was confusion and irritation. "Huh?"

Simon moved over to the cortex, pulling up a chart he had constructed. The data whizzed across the screen to provide an image of a molecule, broken down and reassembling as he spoke.

"This is the Ares complex. It's a synthetic compound designed to bond with human DNA and increase aggressive tendencies, adrenaline, immunity and resilience. This is why you enjoy the fighting, why you haven't gotten sick while on board despite countless injuries leaving you susceptible to infection. This is why you are what you are."

"An' what's that?"

Simon ignored the comment as he continued. "This compound enhances primal instincts long since tempered by civilization, leaving you caught between a dark nature and lighter nurture."

Jayne was silent as Simon pulled up another image on the screen, this one of several graphs. "The compound is volatile; it tends to lead to tachycardia, rapid death in most subjects. The reports indicate a multitude of deaths for those being experimented on, deaths that would have been painful but swift. For you and several others it bonded in a positive way."

He put down the remote flicker and rested his hands on the bench without looking at Jayne. "Unfortunately the changes brought about by this compound also lead to violently increased sex drive."

A dark chuckle sounded behind him. "That what they's callin' it these days Doc?"

Simon squeezed his eyes shut as his mind began to replay the horrific images on that data disc. "You were part of a breeding program back on Purgatum, designed for furthering the genetic material of Academy candidates. They called your kind Breeders, engineered to react to pheromones indicating hormone changes that created an environment ripe for fertilization."

A sharp metallic clang behind him had Simon spinning quickly. Jayne had managed to rip one of the restraints clean off the table, and from the whining of strained metal the other wasn't far behind. Simon took a step back at the fury in Jayne's eyes.

The merc was breathing harshly, voice dark and low and furious. "Yer…yer tellin' me they put that _go se_ in me and….raaaghhh."

The other restraint snapped and Simon watched as the bigger man sat up, moving to his leg restraints. "I wouldn't do that."

Jayne didn't look up as one of the restraints was snapped, muscles tensing. "Why the fuck not?"

Suddenly he stopped, swaying slightly, and his eyes narrowed before rolling into the back of his head. Book entered, looking at the passed out mercenary who was almost free. The preacher moved forward to reclasp the manacles, locating more rope to bind their aggressive patient. He knew it wouldn't hold, that Simon would probably be forced to keep him doped through most of the journey.

And he saw the pain in the doctor's eyes, unable to figure out whether it was the fact that he had been forced to dope someone he once tentatively called 'friend', or something else.

Simon sighed. "I tried to warn him…he never listens."

Book placed a careful hand on Simon's shoulder. "Are you alright son?"

He blinked. Was he alright? His sister was heavily pregnant with his mercenary's child, a child conceived by force ordained by an evil government program whose sole desire was the furtherance of their malicious schemes. His fiancée was back on Purgatum, he hadn't slept in days, and he'd just drugged the aforementioned mercenary in order to stop whatever violent behaviour was about to erupt.

He didn't look at Book. "I'm fine."

Before the preacher could argue Mal arrived. "Get us prepped fer landin' soon as possible. We got trouble."

Book watched him. "Are we being followed? We're still two days from Purgatum."

Mal shook his head. "No. Just got a wave from Ginger, think somethin' happened ta Matthew an' River."

Simon turned. "What? What happened?"

Mal moved them back towards the bridge as he spoke. "Can't rightly say, wave's too shabby, but whatever it is it don't look good." He gestured back to the infirmary and its inmate. "He gonna be ready ta go when we land?"

Simon shook his head. "I doubt it; whatever has a grip on his system isn't letting go, it'd be like unleashing a wild animal in a room full of china. I'm worried…he's…he's feral, there's no control, there's only the drive towards aggression and violence and getting his last wish. If he gets out…it would be a bloodbath."

Mal's eyes darkened.

"Well maybe that's just what we need."


	33. Chapter 33

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N:** Just a quick note; I work really hard to reply to all your gorgeous reviews, but to those reviewing anonymously or with PM locked accounts, please know how much your support and feedback means to me. You're making this a joy to write, and I'm so grateful to each and every one of you!

* * *

Kaylee clasped Inara's hand tightly as the yelling started. Zoe had woken up moments beforehand, demanding they go to find Matthew, and Wash was more than ready to follow his wife wherever she went in order to get his son back. Vera was holding firm, knowing they didn't have the firepower or the strength to take down anyone with Zoe injured and Inara still unconscious.

Kaylee ran a hand through Inara's hair, wishing she would wake up and offer some measure of calm. Mattie had started pacing half an hour ago, becoming more and more agitated, and it struck Kaylee that she had never seen him quite this upset before. When he came near her she held out a hand, running it behind his ears, but he didn't break his gait as Zoe's furious voice echoed through the bedroom.

"We're gettin' him back and that's final!"

Vera's eyes narrowed. "Ya ain't no good ta him dead an' with what we got now that's exactly what'd happen. We need more fighters; the Cap'n is a great shot an' my boy is the best damn tracker in the 'verse. We ain't got no choice but to wait!"

Wash raised his voice. "_Jien tah duh guay! _We need to move! We have no idea what they're doing to him and…"

His voice became very quiet and he clasped Zoe's hand tightly. "He's so little."

Vera's voice was filled with compassion but remained firm. "I know, trust me I know how scared ya are, but-"

Zoe's tone was cutting. "Yeah, you know. You know damn well what they could do ta him. An' considerin' that your son is the reason we're in this mess maybe you should step down now!"

Vera looked like she'd been struck, and Kaylee's usually sunny disposition became dark. "Zo', ya know that ain't true, we can't start up with that. We jus' gotta wait til-"

Wash threw his hands in the air. "Til what? Til the Cap'n comes back with whatever's left of Jayne an' the rest of them? Kaylee, we don't even know-"

"Well we're about to find out." Ginger's voice cut through the din, silencing everyone as she re-entered the room. "We just got a wave; Serenity is touching down. Reynolds wants us to meet them there."

Vera flicked her eyes over Inara's prone form. "Ginger, you and the girls stay here with Inara. I wanna know the second she wakes up, _dong ma_?"

Ginger nodded. She knew the head wound was bad but Inara had been drifting in and out of consciousness, and when she was awake she was responding well. Ginger's meagre medical training was thankfully enough to know this wasn't a life threatening injury, but Vera could comm through Simon and find out if there was anything else she should be looking for.

Zoe rose, supressing a flinch as the movement jarred her ribs, and Vera knew better than to tell her to stay put. As harsh as the words had been Vera still couldn't hold it against her, not with Matthew in the hands of those bastards and River also missing. Wash brought over her holster and Mare's Leg, and Vera left without a word to complete her own weapons check. She heard Kaylee's hesitant steps behind her.

"What…what're we gonna do about Jayne?"

Vera looked over to Mattie, still pacing and eager to get a move on. "I don't know darlin'. I jus' don't know."

Kaylee accepted the pistol Vera gave her without question, and Vera hated knowing the sweet little mechanic was worried enough not to argue about carrying a weapon. She had been out with River and Mattie before, all of them had at various times, and Mal had taken the time to do some extra weapons training during. The girl wouldn't be winning any prizes for her shooting but she was still better than a greenhorn.

Vera tilted Kaylee's chin up. "Ya gotta stay strong. Yer man is comin' back, an' he ain't gonna be ok, so he'll need you ta pick up the slack."

Kaylee nodded as a tear slipped down her cheek. Picking up the slack. For months now she had been picking up the slack, making sure Simon ate, relaxed, slept, looked after himself. They'd had a bit of respite the last few months but with River now missing he would be going back to that dark place that had been haunting him for so long.

She was tired, exhausted, and the one thing that had let her feel happy, the one thing she had been able to count on to bring her some peace and recharge her batteries, was stolen away by the Alliance. Again.

She would never be able to articulate why it was so important to spend time with River's unborn child, to feel that little life moving, to hold Matthew and make him giggle that bright laugh they all loved. All she knew was that it was the only time the 'verse could truly remind her that the light was still there.

And given the darkness crashing down around them, she needed that more than ever.

* * *

The walk to the ship was near silent but hurried. Vera and Mattie took the lead with Wash, Zoe and Kaylee at the rear. Zoe's stride were brisk; if her injuries were giving her any trouble she wasn't showing any sign of it, and Kaylee had never seen Wash's face look so blank.

They arrived just as Serenity was touching down, running quickly onto the ship where they were met by Mal. He looked tired and worried, meeting them in the cargo bay with concern lacing his features.

"What's goin' on?"

Zoe's voice was devoid of any emotion. "Got attacked, they took Matthew and River."

Mal seemed to freeze at that. His mouth pursed, his eyes narrowed, and his hands clenched at his sides. Not even a week they had been gone and someone had stolen away his godson and Reader, neither of whom were in any position to be tampered with. Matthew was just a baby, and with River getting so close to her due date.

He was damn sick of people stealing his crew.

Simon's face went white and Vera stepped forward. "Got reports o' children bein' taken ta a hospital, sayin' the Phaedre virus is back."

Simon shook his head. "There's no such thing, I've never heard of it, which means-"

"Which means whoever took Jayne all those years ago is now starting their experiments once more." Book looked drawn and tired, but his voice was filled with supressed anger.

Mal looked around and his voice was hollow.

"Where's Inara?"

Wash looked to Mal carefully. "Got hit in the head when they attacked her and Zoe, she's alright but shouldn't be moved."

Mal looked at Simon who nodded, grabbing a comm unit and dialling through to the house. The Captain watched silently as Simon walked Ginger through some checks, noting with some relief that the doctor was nodding in approval as Ginger did as she was told.

When the doctor looked back at Mal he nodded once. "She's alright, just needs a good deal of rest. I'll have to check on her soon but from the sounds of it she's just suffering a minor concussion."

Vera flicked her eyes around the bay. "Where's my boy?"

The three men were silent for a moment before Simon turned, leading them to the infirmary. Kaylee noted nervously that the reinforced doors were locked, something she hadn't seen since they brought the survivor off that wreck all those months ago, and from the sounds inside she knew why.

Furious roars and snarls echoed through the room as beakers were shattered. The chair was torn from the floor, thrown into a wall, and when they looked inside they were horrified. Jayne was creating havoc throughout the interior, smashing whatever he could get the manacle bound fists on. The chains had been snapped, and he cut a dark figure as he howled his rage and continued to destruction. The black ink on his skin slipped over muscles that bunched and tensed as he took out his anger on the room.

_You're a Breeder._

_Designed to increase aggressive tendencies._

_Violently increased sex drive._

_Skin and lips and screams and bruises and rage and pleasure. _

_Tearing limbs from targets, blasting holes in skulls._

_Controlled._

_Violent._

_Dangerous._

_Animal._

Vera pressed one hand to the glass as her son decimated the infirmary. "What…what's happened ta him?"

Simon's voice was emotionless, his tentative grasp on his sanity barely holding. "He woke up from the smoother's about half an hour ago, he's been going at it ever since. I don't…I don't think he's sane."

Kaylee ran one hand up Simon's back carefully, rubbing in soothing circles that he didn't seem to register. Eventually he seemed to lean into her touch, and she fought the urge to crumple at the defeat in his eyes as he watched his patient's system become overloaded with testosterone and rage.

Mattie began to scratch furiously at the doors, growling and whining desperately.

Vera turned to them. "Open the doors."

Mal shook his head. "No way in hell."

Vera snarled. "Open the _gorram_ doors now! Just fer a second!"

Her eyes brooked no argument and Mal was pushed beyond his rope at this point, grunting with frustration as he slammed the opener. The doors split for a second, not long enough for Jayne to get out enough for Mattie to get in before they clanged shut behind him. They huddled in front of the windows as Jayne growled at the intruder, the sound met with a deeper, more guttural growl from the enormous dog.

Vera stood frozen, waiting, and Mal wondered how she would deal when they tore one another apart. Jayne's eyes narrowed as he studied the beast in front of him, circling and lowering into an attack position.

"_Baby, if you sneak one more piece o' broccoli under the table I'ma whack you over the head."_

"_But Ma! He gets all happy, an' the girls all do it."_

"_That's cuz he's a tart, an' he don't need any more o' your greens, _dong ma_?"_

_A warm figure on his bed, breathe on his face as he woke from a nightmare. A calming lick, affectionate whuff, reassurance and solidarity as they ran free through plains and forests, hunting and fighting._

_Recognition._

_Scent filling the air, taking him back to a time when control was elusive but demanded. Richly earthy and heated, the scent was full of childhood memories, safety and comfort. Something to handle his darkness, forcing him to expend energy elsewhere, a packmate._

_I know you._

Mal didn't find out how Vera would react; the two met one another in a violent movement that quickly turned into rough but playful tussle. Mattie pinned him with both paws on either shoulder, licking his face and wagging his tail eagerly as Jayne wrestled with him.

The others stared. Book reached out a hand for the doorway and Vera's own shot out to stop him.

"I wouldn't do that."

Book looked into her concerned eyes. Despite the fact that Jayne had not reacted negatively to Mattie she still didn't seem reassured. It suddenly struck him that she had expected exactly this reaction, and that it didn't necessarily spell anything positive for Jayne's state of mind that he could interact with an enormous animal.

Simon looked dazed. "He's been unconscious or violent and belligerent the last few days and all it takes for him to calm down is a dog?"

Vera shook her head. "Don't get it twisted boy; he's around the only thing he can deal with at the moment. Don't mean he's all ready fer a tea party, jus' means…"

Kaylee moved to her side as Vera trailed off, watching her son and oldest friend play. "What, what does it mean?"

Vera swallowed. "Jus' means he's still in there…somewhere."

They watched for another moment as Mattie rubbed his head against Jayne's hands and face, breathing in his scent and showering him with sloppy licks. A click sounded from behind them as their first mate checked her weapon, her husband tight with tension as he looked on.

Zoe's voice was harsh. "Fine, he's got a play friend, now let's get a move on."

Mal looked around. "What's the plan?"

Vera didn't look away from the window. "I know where the old hospital is, chances are they ain't set up elsewhere. Problem is I'm guessin' they've beefed up security since my last visit. We ain't likely ta jus' walk in the door, an' I don't know if the entrances is still the same."

"Then we let him do it."

They turned at Zoe's words, her eyes flat and far too calm. "You said it yerself Vera; your boy is the best tracker in the 'verse. Looks ta me like we got ourselves a way ta find my son."

A snarl sounded from the infirmary and no one could be sure who it had come from.

Book's voice was filled with concern. "But with Jayne so volatile-"

"I don't care." Wash's voice was the same flat tone as Zoe's. "It doesn't matter, we can clean up whatever messes he makes later, right now we need to find Matthew and River."

Simon moved forward. "From what we've seen he's more than dangerous; he's unpredictable and deadly. But…but I think he's our best bet for getting River and Matthew out of there. So much rage…"

Mal looked at Zoe. "Might be that we have some tough decisions ta make, don't know how well this is gonna go down."

She looked at him then, grief and fury filling her eyes. "Sir, right now I don't care. I just want him back."

Mal nodded. "Then that's what we gotta do. Simon, comm with Vera an' make sure Inara ain't needin' anymore help. The rest o' ya, weapon up, we gotta pay a visit ta them that took what's ours."

Book ran a hand over his head, looking back in at the man he still called friend. "There has already been so much killing…"

Zoe looked at him. "Preacher, ain't no time fer God right now. There's gonna be more killin', you can count on that. We take out whoever we can an' then we let Jayne deal with it."

"Could be that this gets mighty ugly."

"Yer goddamn right it is."

* * *

She pressed both hands against the reinforced glass. The equation wasn't in her favour, not enough body weight to deliver the necessary impact for fracturing the cell walls. They had delivered her carefully, though their rough hands said they wanted nothing more than to throw her into the cell, and she knew her swollen stomach was the reason for their restraint. She ran her eyes through the white cell, looking for any kind of weakness to be exploited, but they had been careful. Low ceiling meant she had nowhere to hide, single wall of glass meant they could see her every movement.

The room outside was screaming to her, songs of pain and fear and longing for family. So many tiny lives, laying in their plastic cribs, little hands reaching for comfort and warmth they wouldn't be given. One hand trailed over her own stomach, and she ignored the faintest cramp that signalled problems ahead.

_Tiny life, tiny creation, love love love._

They moved in front of her window, throwing out dark taunts in their white coats, trying to get a rise out of their latest and greatest capture. Their minds screamed violation into her own, shouting out their intentions for her, for the child, for the children.

**Offspring utilized as initial test subject for further control compounds.**

**Ares virus has been streamlined, results should be more positive for a greater number of experiments.**

**Apply Breeder once Tam is fully healed, obtain more test subjects from the mating.**

**Initiate weapon sequencing for eventual training and destruction.**

She didn't flinch, didn't move as they struggled to elicit an emotional response for their own pleasure. Bitch, whore, experiment, weapon, thing. Word barbs thrown out designed to relieve their anger and frustration at having taken so long to recapture something so valuable. Didn't matter, they couldn't break past the control she had-

Another tiny life placed in a crib, its holder looking to her with a dark smirk. Her eyes widened as the little gift was hooked up to an IV, blue eyes holding hers in a mocha face.

_A tiny hand twined around hers, bright blue eyes shining as she nuzzled his nose carefully. Mother and Father were taking their hard earned nap, Grandfather was watching from another chair while Godfather was enjoying a hot meal with the silken queen. Her furry friend lay at her feet, keeping them warm, and the little gift was bounced on her knee, out of the way of her swollen stomach._

_A bright giggle shot through the room like sunshine piercing clouds, bringing smiles to the faces of all the inhabitants._

He was frightened.

"No…NOOOO!"

Her scream was met with laughter, ignored as they continued their checks, and her fists pounded against the glass hard enough to leave smears of blood as she desperately reached out to the little mind. Her psyche Read images flitting across his eyes, longing in every single picture his infant mind threw up. Familiar faces, a mother, a father, a warrior woman and a jester, a hairy friend, family of all shapes and sizes.

She thrashed, slamming her hands into the glass again and again, screaming and begging for them to stop, cease, desist. Leave him alone. One white coat stepped forward, eyes filled with concern; a damaged subject was harder to use.

"Initiate training sequence 55845 beta; subdue."

Her hands were at her sides instantly, the broken finger and blood unnoticed as the training latched into her system. But they couldn't see the brown eyes hidden by hair, couldn't tell the way she was watching, waiting. The energy they had instilled was no longer a confined experiment; it had been faced with danger, love, a brother and family unexpected, a new chassis, a framework that had reshaped and reformed the codes until the weapon was no longer their contained subject.

Channel the energy, redirect and redefine, utilize coding.

It was coming. There wouldn't be much time, there would be so much blood, but it was coming.

The reckoning.

Her head snapped up as another presence entered the room. This presence had no place here; it should be long dead, left as a victim of the silent planet, only a star in a single broad wave that had changed the 'verse. This face was no longer a representative of shame and fear, this face revealed a darker secret, an insurance policy, a long hidden disguise.

Dr Marie Carmichaels shot her a smug smile as she approached the glass. River's voice came out in a whisper, dark and haunting, but loud enough to fill the laboratory.

"It's a ghost."


	34. Chapter 34

**TITLE:** The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Gotta send a shout out to **Alphadine**, ridiculously talented writer AND giver of musical inspiration to this stuck writer. Seriously, go check out Deeper and Deeper by Dave Gahan for this fic. And thank her for being awesome. Thanks babe :)

* * *

**10 Years Ago - Miranda**

The screaming in the street didn't particularly bother her. It's not like it was coming from the victims other than the staff members stupid enough to have tried to intervene. She looked over at Chan, who was talking to Griggs about setting up the vid recorder. She liked Griggs; frankly anyone pointless enough to be used the way he was could be seen as an asset.

Although he'd barely survived the Ares compound on Purgatum his system had managed to use it, although completely differently to how they had thought. He had become docile, dependent on them, and though his normal personality would attempt to break through, the tight control of the chemical tended to make him easier to deal with.

The ankle monitor was really just for insurance. As was the rest of what they were planning.

Since Griggs' system had adjusted the compound she had been forced to think of the other uses for such a virus. Imagine a chemical that didn't increase aggression, but decreased it entirely. Imagine one that would render the population as docile as Griggs', maybe even more so with prolonged exposure.

Simple, easily controlled cattle.

Perfect.

Another scream sounded below and she idly looked out the window, a moue of distaste crossing her face when she saw those…things tear apart Dr Sanchez. Idiot, they had warned him not to go outside. Just as Ares had produced an opposite reaction in Griggs, so had the Pax produced an opposite reaction in a small per cent of this population. It was annoying, seeing as this had been on a much larger scale, so the creatures were far more numerous and difficult to deal with. No matter, it was all a learning experience according to Chan, and now they had scores of insane monsters running around this little planet.

It wouldn't last long, they all knew that; these things still had some measure of intelligence, and that meant they would eventually remember off world travel. But this rock was far enough away from the rest of the system that they might have some use of intergalactic bogey men.

She looked over the rest of the streets, pure white, littered with calm and peaceful bodies unaware of the desecration currently being committed by their former friends, lovers, spouses and co-workers.

She turned back, smirking at the make-up and costume on Griggs; he almost looked like one of them. It was amazing what one could do with some red paint and ripped items of clothing.

Chan gave her a nod, and she turned to the camera, affecting her best look of fear.

"These are just some of the images we recorded, and as you can see, it isn't what we thought…"

* * *

_The gas knocked her out swiftly, her hands reaching for the tiny boy on the other side of the glass. The gift, the precious little gift, he disappeared from her sight as the world became dark. She struggled through the blackness, hating the blanket that was covering her psyche, and fought for some semblance of consciousness. _

_She was being moved, she knew that much, and that presence, the one coated in lies and betrayal and darkness, it was coming with her. Still, there was something else approaching._

_Something darker and deadlier than the woman made of deception._

_Something dangerous and uncontrolled._

_Something violent._

"Daddy's coming…"

* * *

Simon shot a look at Mal. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Mal didn't bother answering when the click of Zoe's Mare's Leg echoed through the lounge. They didn't have a choice, they all knew it, but this wasn't just risky; a smart man would call it suicide. Simon sighed and nodded, remembering a time when he had been called top three per cent in his class. A time long ago. Jayne had been in there with Mattie for the last twenty minutes, wrestling and bumping heads affectionately with his furry comrade. Now came the tricky part.

He hit the comm button on the wall. "Jayne?"

The big man was up in a second, snarling and ready for action. The playful countenance was gone, every muscle in his body signalled a challenge.

Simon swallowed thickly. "We're going to need your help."

That same dark chuckle he had heard more than he wanted rang through the room. "Ain't got no help ta offer-"

"River has been taken. Along with your child. We need your help finding them."

The change was startling. They had seen him ripping apart the infirmary, seen him begging for Mal to end it, seen him reconnecting with Mattie. But this? Jayne's shoulder twitched and he growled low in his throat. His eyes darkened, and the meagre moments of humanity they had glimpsed disappeared as he began to pace furiously, Mattie following him step for step.

Vera looked carved from stone as they began to bargain with her broken son. Simon struggled to keep his voice authoritative, knowing all too well that while River may have been subject to medically enforceable behavioural modification, Jayne had suffered no such fate.

"We're going to send in weapons, we need you to take us to the facility."

Simon nodded to Mal, who clicked the opener so the doors parted briefly, long enough for Book to toss in a few items. A slam on the other side indicated that Jayne had attempted to exit, but Mal was ready for him.

The bandolier of ammunition was ignored, as was the gun, but Jayne scooped up the machete and lunged for the t-shirt. Simon watched as the mercenary took hold of his sister's shirt. It was old and worn, one she had taken to wearing ever since her stomach became too swollen for her usual dresses. A pilfered shirt from her brother's wardrobe that she tended to sleep in.

They stared as Jayne's movements stopped for a moment, battered hands bringing the t-shirt to his face, eyes closing as he inhaled deeply. When they reopened they were filled with that dark, twisted desire, the unbridled bloodlust that made Simon gag as he remembered the vid. This was the man they were going to use to save his sister.

Simon clutched Kaylee's hand, needing to know something pure existed in this 'verse.

Jayne exhaled sharply, teeth bared as the snarl ripped through his throat and into the infirmary. He ran for the doors, banging into them with enough force to set a dent in the metal, and Mal looked at the others.

"Get ready."

They backed away, leaving the easiest exit clear, and Mal nodded at Simon. The doctor clicked the opener and rushed backwards. The effect was instant; Jayne shot out like a whirlwind with Mattie close on his heels, growling and snarling and ready for battle. Nobody bothered asking him to put on a shirt, all too aware that he wasn't likely to hear them, and they held their breath as they waited. His eyes didn't bother flicking over them, he simply took off at a sprint, and they bolted after him and off the ship.

As they others bolted Kaylee felt frozen for a moment, remembering.

_The galley roared with laughter. Mal grinned as Wash slid the bottle across the table, struggling to talk through the hilarity._

"_So…so I said, maybe we could…" He descended into giggles. "Maybe we could call it Rex!"_

_Book had tears in his eyes and Jayne was clutching the table as if he was worried about falling off at any moment. Given the fact that they'd consumed enough of Kaylee's engine wine to fell an elephant perhaps the fear was justified._

_Simon took a swig from the bottle as the joy died down. "Ok, ok, I've got one…"_

_Kaylee and Inara leaned in the doorway without saying a word, enjoying the sneak preview into the men's idiot behaviour after a few too many drinks._

_It was a show of their bonding since Miranda that Jayne didn't interrupt him with a nasty comment of some kind. Truth was, Simon had relaxed since the catastrophe, and as the hair grew and the shirts untucked he began to find his feet in their home._

_The doctor smirked. "When, when River was nine, my parents had a dinner party. Our father invited all the high flying members of society to come and sit around their big table, drinking and eating. He'd intended it to be a bit of a debut for River, and they spent the whole afternoon telling her again and again not to open her mouth."_

_There was a brief pause as everyone at the table hated the Tam parents. Simon continued._

"_Well I had to pick her up from ballet, and…she's always had a way of convincing me to do what she wanted. And what she wanted was to go to every alleyway on our way home and collect the boxes of kittens people left out."_

_He paused at the memory. "By the time we got home father was furious, and my arms were covered in little scratches. When we got to the dining room she immediately went over to Gareth Milton, and handed over about two dozen kittens."_

_The rest of the table looked confused and something sneaky glinted in Simon's eyes. "She just smiled and told him that now he could start his own cathouse, with all the pussy he wanted!"_

_There was a pause before the table erupted into laughter. Book and Jayne were leaning on each other, struggling to stay upright as Mal fell out of his chair and Wash howled. Simon wiped away tears as he continued._

"_A-a-and if that wasn't bad enough, she handed one over to his wife! S-s-she told her she'd heard hers was cold, so maybe it needed a friend!"_

_They collapsed together at the thought of the cheeky girl upsetting all those rich folks, and Jayne felt the warmth of family for the first time in years. Kaylee and Inara had slipped away, letting them continue in private._

_Much, much later, when the drunken singing became too much to handle, Kaylee, Inara and Zoe came to force them to bed. _

_Kaylee came back from putting a barely conscious Simon to bed only to see Jayne still sitting in his chair. She was about to move forward to help him up when someone else appeared in the other doorway._

_River gave him a calm smile as he tried to bring her into focus. "What'd…what'd ya do with them kittens?"_

_She cocked a brow. "Took them out the next day, handed presents to the street children."_

_He wobbled. "That'sh nice."_

_She smiled and it struck Kaylee that this was the first time he'd been alone with her since Miranda. River obviously caught the tail end of the thought, the light in her eyes disappearing as Jayne took a step towards her, something dark crossing his face. She slipped from the room, leaving Kaylee to watch a dazed Jayne lean against the wall River had just vacated._

_She had never, ever seen him look so relieved in her whole life._

Kaylee shook herself, moving quickly after her crew.

* * *

He's bolting through the forest he grew up on, recognising every sight and sound, every touch of tearing branch and easily avoided death trap of snake and spider. He ignores the thorns that left their marks on him, ignores the pounding in his head. None of it matters. He's getting closer, tracking that scent as easily as if it was written on the skin he's wearing, and maybe it is. The scent that demands his mind roar and his heart race, demanding action, sending blood to his cock and speed to his feet.

Free.

Prey to be closed in on, hunted, taken and tasted and swallowed whole. A tug of an anchor at his side, a pack mate nipping at his heels as if reading his thoughts, and he tries desperately to remember what they are doing other than pursuing that tantalizing scent for dark purposes.

He can hear others behind him, but he doesn't care. They trip and stumble, trying to keep up with him, but their presence doesn't matter, their thoughts don't matter, their calls don't matter.

Only the hunt mattered.

PAGE BREAK

_She woke, pushing herself from the cold ground and looking around. Another white room, another too clean cell, only this time she couldn't see the tiny gift, couldn't reach out to his thoughts._

_The room was filled with cells just like hers, ones that housed dark minds driven mad with lust and aggression, incoherent except for one word. Their hands pounded on the glass, theirs screams ringing through the night as they fought, harder and harder to get to her, to get to the body, the girl._

_The smell._

_That word was forced into her mind again and again and again._

_Take._

* * *

They pushed hard to keep up with him, letting Vera lead them as she cut a fast figure across the dangerous terrain. A fractured army of broken people bolting towards some kind of destruction, barely able to think for the need to catch up to their violent guide.

Kaylee stumbled, Simon managing to catch her arm before she hit a sharp rock, and she looked at him gratefully for a second before they kept sprinting forward. Book was breathing heavily but refusing to be left behind, determined as the others that this end game required everyone, ready to do his part.

Whatever that was.

They lost sight of them for a moment, barely able to keep up, but they rounded another heavy thatch of trees and came to a standstill. The cliff wasn't overly large, they could get down easily, and Jayne was panting heavily as he looked down into the area below. Vera stood just to his side, unwilling to push him into recognition but all too aware that she had been here before, staring down into that same valley.

_The night as freezing but she ignored it. Mattie moved to her side and she ran one hand over his head, eyes cold as she stared down at the hospital where their children were being 'healed'._

_She nodded to her friend. "Let's go get our boy back."_

She looked over at Mal. "Guards, a helluva lot of them."

Mal nodded. "Zo', you go with Wash, Book, the Doc an' Kaylee. See iffen ya can't find Matthew." She moved but he stopped her. "There's other lil ones in there…I want them out too."

Zoe held his gaze for a moment before nodding, and he knew then that no matter what happened, Matthew was her first priority.

He was surprisingly ok with it.

As the others headed down the clearing, noting Vera's hasty directions, Mal turned to Jayne. "She close big man?"

Jayne bared his teeth, the crazed look in his eyes sending Mal's hand to the gun at his hip, but Vera clicked her fingers twice. Jayne spun with a furious snarl but she held firm.

"Got a job don'tcha baby?"

The wind changed, bringing scents from the valley, and Jayne's head snapped back towards his target. They watched as he bolted down the hill, Mattie hot on his heels as they followed suit.

* * *

They rounded the edge of the hospital silently. From what Vera had told them this had once been accessible to a public full of terrified mothers, but obviously those days were long gone. Guards were stationed at the doorways, well-armed and ready to take down intruders.

"_First rule of battle lil one? Don't ever let them know where you are."_

The guards turned as one at the sound in the bushes, advancing carefully. Which means they didn't even see Zoe and Book as they cold cocked them from behind. Simon and Kaylee exited the bushes, Wash coming from around the corner to take out the security feed. They entered silently, moving through the hallways quickly and methodically.

Wash whispered. "Here."

A map on the wall indicated the layout, and Zoe's eyes narrowed when she saw the 'Subject Room'. "That's where we're goin'."

Something heavy thudded behind them and they turned, seeing Simon look down at the body with the slit throat. He clasped his knife tighter, and Kaylee fought the urge to cry at the dead look in his eyes.

"Let's go."

Another hallway, another corridor, more bodies left in their wake. If Book had any issue with the killing it was mitigated entirely when they rounded their final corner. The room was huge, vast numbers of plastic cribs lining the walls, doctors turning and shouting when they noticed the intruders. The sounds of children crying were filling the air, wrenching at their hearts as the little ones plead for their parents.

Gunshots were loud.

Baby tears were louder.

Zoe's Mare's Leg silenced a few of the doctors, and Kaylee tripped one man as he rushed the exit. Book ignored the bolt of satisfaction he felt when a round ripped through one man's knee, another's arm destroyed by a swift hit. Wash moved quickly, searching desperately for their child, and suddenly he called out.

"Zoe!"

She bolted to his side, struggling to breathe as she looked down at her baby. He cried out, begging to be picked up, and she clutched him tightly, Wash's arms coming around the both of them as hot tears began to slip down her cheeks. They had him. He was here and he as breathing and they had him. She fought the urge to fall to the floor sobbing with relief, barely able to stay upright, and she looked at Wash. He held firm.

She had never been prouder to call him her husband.

Simon's voice called out. "We've got to get them out of here; these charts indicate they may have already been injected with the Ares compound."

Kaylee's eyes teared up as she looked down at the children. "But…but what can we do?"

Simon swallowed. "If it's in its early stages there might be something we can try."

Book eyed the doctor, who took a deep breath before continuing. "Pax."

Zoe's head whipped around. "What? You want to…"

"I want to help them! If the Ares compound accelerates aggression, and the Pax makes subjects more docile, then it's possible that a diluted dose could render them healthy again, balance things out. We need to get these children out of here and back to the house as quickly as possible."

They had taken out every guard they had come across, but the facility was large, and they had no idea who else might be waiting for them. Book pulled out his comm, dialling the house and breathing a sigh of relief when Ginger answered straight away. "We're going to need a mule at the hospital; fast. Come armed."

"Roger."

He clicked out, trying to figure out the best way to move all these children when Kaylee's voice came from across the room. "But…but what about River?"

Simon screwed his eyes shut for a moment. What about River? What about his pregnant sister being searched for by the wild man who had forced himself on her so violently? What about River being found by said man, his body strung out on chemicals and aggression, his mind so fractured he had barely been able to recognise them at first?

He wasn't the boy anymore. He had worked with this crew, fought with them, and now he had a hundred tiny charges who needed medical attention. He blinked back tears, wanting nothing more than to run, find River, take her to some safe place in the 'verse and just let her be free.

He knew he couldn't.

"The Captain will get her back."

Zoe shifted Matthew in her arms, ready to suggest they try to help the others, when she suddenly saw it. "Wash?"

He followed her line of sight and went pale. His head whipped up, eyes locking with hers, and they both decided on silence for now. They needed to get their son out of here, needed to get these children somewhere safe.

Especially Matthew.

Because there, permanently inked on his tiny little arm, were two letters.

**MA**

* * *

_That smell._

_That smell was calling him, permeating the air, coating his tongue. Richer than he'd ever remembered, like molasses lighting his blood on fire as he pounded through._

_Obstacle. Snapped neck rendering him useless._

_His pack mate kept his pace, lunging on one man as he attacked another, throats torn out, jaws left dangling as the bodies hit the floor._

_Prey was getting closer, he could feel it in every step._

_Webs across his mind, shutting things out and letting things in and reminding him of blood._

_So much blood._

_Violent path being cut._

_Images of his sin, swelling her stomach, thin frame trying to support offspring she never should have been forced to bear._

_Shame. Guilt. Rage. Digust._

_It didn't matter. That smell was howling to him, begging him, pleading him, demanding that he take and rip and tear and shred and violate over and over. Guilt had no place in this desire, this need, this addiction rendering him nothing more than an animal as he hunted for her._

_More obstacles, more blood._

_Closer._

Mal looked at Vera as they followed Jayne and Mattie. The carnage was unlike anything he'd ever seen; neither of the animals ahead of them were slowing, simply taking out targets as they encountered them. They seemed to be working in tandem, Mattie using the massive jaws and razor teeth while Jayne stuck to his hands and the machete he was carrying.

Mal had lived with Mattie for months now, but he'd never seen this side of the animal that used to curl up with Matthew, or sleep on River's bed every night. The dog who played with Kaylee and flirted with the girls in Vera's house until he got every scrap off their plates. The dog who had taken an almost obsessive interest in River, who adored Matthew, who wanted to play with Wash and annoy Simon. He didn't know what to make of the jaws dripping with blood, the eyes filled with the hunt as he prowled forward relentlessly.

Mal hissed at Vera. "Why's he gettin' like that?"

Vera took out an approaching guard without blinking. "He an' Jayne was always close."

A vicious snarl ripped through the hallway up ahead and Vera smiled coldly.

"An' Mattie don't like folks who take what's his."

They stopped dead as the rounded the corner. Mattie was pacing behind Jayne, low growl still rolling through his throat as Jayne stared at the wall. It was a dead end, and Mal fought a roar of irritation that they were wasting time when suddenly Jayne's hand whipped out.

The control pad had been hidden, but a shattering punch was enough to send sparks flying, and suddenly a door began to open that hadn't been there a moment ago. Jayne turned and Mal swallowed, the big man's hands covered with blood and his skin marked black and red.

Vera nodded as they followed their two animals guides through the revealed passageway.

"Told ya, best tracker in the 'verse."

* * *

She swayed on her feet, trying to stay steady as the influx of violence screamed through her mind. Her watcher didn't blink, still smiling that same smug smile that had led to the destruction of millions all in the name of science, of prosperity.

Dr Carmichaels tilted her head. She wasn't fazed by the Breeders howling in the background, she was far too used to them by now. But the girl was something else, something about her set Marie's teeth on edge, and she wanted to fill the air with words to see how deep they could cut.

"The vid was insurance, case our benefactors ever decided to pull our funding. I can't tell you how frustrating it was to have your people broadcast it across the 'verse, but luckily our backers knew by then that we wouldn't fail. This Program had been all but abandoned until you came along."

Scrawny little thing looked ridiculous, stomach like a balloon against that skinny frame, hair dangling and body encased in that oversized cargo jacket.

The eyes narrowed. "So special, so gifted, the perfect candidate. They always said you'd be their star pupil. All set to make history. And off your brother took you before you could be of any use to us!"

She flashed the girl a cold smile. "Still, they say things have a way of working out. When that whore stole her son back I was sure he wouldn't survive til puberty. Can you imagine? Letting that animal run wild? I couldn't believe it when Chan showed me the footage."

Why wasn't she reacting? Marie had seen what the Breeders did; how the girl had managed to stay alive let alone be able to walk was a complete mystery. And no matter what she was saying, there's wasn't a flicker in those brown eyes.

She approached the glass. "Tell me…how was it?"

River didn't move, staring at her evenly as she continued her vicious tirade. "Did it hurt? You were the only one who survived a mating. Wouldn't think it to look at you but I guess you're stronger than we thought. However did you get back to the ship? Dragging yourself on your belly?"

Nothing, no reaction.

She barked out a cruel laugh. "Your little crew thinks they've found us, thinks that saving a few of those brats can stop our plan. But they were only the beginning darling; we've got you now."

They had her now. They had their star pupil, their Breeders, and no matter what this crew did they could still find more bastard children to use for their own ends. Best of all they had whatever foul life was growing in that girl's stomach, the mix of Breeder and candidate was to be their prized possession.

She smiled. "You're all that we'll ever need. Although it is a shame to lose the test subjects. You and yours have caused quite a nuisance girl."

"Oh now, you keep up with that kinda talk an' yer gonna make me blush."

She jumped, turning to see Captain Reynolds leaning comfortably in the doorway.


	35. Chapter 35

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine

**A/N: **Over 400 reviews…are you kidding me? I've got no words beyond the same appreciation I try to express; thank you so, so much for your ongoing and incredible support.

* * *

**Moments Before**

_The door to the laboratory was cracked open, and when Jayne approached he suddenly froze. The energy still seemed to be gripping his body, but now every muscle ran taut with the effort of keeping himself still, and Mal looked on in confusion._

_Vera crept to the door, peering inside before moving to the other wall and looking at Mal. "Breeders. Maybe ten of them. Don't know how many are same as Jayne but…they ain't lookin' so gentle. Caged."_

_Mal looked over to where Jayne was clenching his fists violently, and realized that whatever smell he had been following was still there, now co-mingling with the rancid stench of the Breeders. Furious recognition was blazing in the big man's eyes, and Mal watched as his breathing quickened. Mal ignored the pang of relief, he'd been worried about the big man's reaction, and this might buy them some time to get River out._

_Mal looked at Vera. "I'll go in first, see iffen ya can't get him ta calm some. Might be we can get outta this without him seein' her."_

_Vera shot him a look that told him how very much she doubted that would happen, but Mal peered through the crack once more._

_There was a woman inside with her back to the door, talking to someone on the far wall, and he had a suspicion as to who that person might be._

"_You and yours have caused quite a nuisance girl."_

_He slipped inside._

River was caged in a cell against the far wall, a single pane of reinforced glass exposing her to the room. That wasn't what held his attention. What drew his eyes were the numerous other cages filled with snarling Breeders bashing their hands against the glass and howling their fury. At the occasional glance of their forearms he knew these were IAs, but at least one had MA tattooed, and he swallowed thickly, wondering just how strong the glass as. He kept his sidearm pointed at the woman in the centre of the room.

She shot him a kind smile. "Captain Reynolds, thank goodness you're here, we were just-"

"_Bi zui_."

He stared at her for a moment. Something about that face was familiar, someone he'd met, someone he'd known, someone he'd seen on…

His eyes widened. "You…"

She didn't break his stare as he watched her. "You…yer from the Miranda broadwave. You were that lady scientist who…you died! We saw it!"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid you must have me mistaken for-"

"You must think I'm _dairuomu ji_, yer from that vid!"

"That poor woman died tragically-"

River's voice was quiet. "Lies, Papa Bear."

His hands gripped his pistol tighter and his face screwed up furiously. "We thought you were a victim, we fought for ya! Do ya know what we went through ta get that vid out? All those people!"

He looked around the room. "An' now this? Now yer stealin' babies an' takin' pregnant girls? We thought…" His voice became very calm. "We thought y'all'd learned from yer mistake…"

The safety clicked off. "We were wrong."

Her eyes narrowed. "You did. Luckily for me I've got some insurance here too."

Before he could question her one hand flew out, slamming a button on the desk. He watched in horror as the cages around the room began to open as one, snarling Breeders licking their lips as they left their confines.

* * *

Wash tried to focus as they moved the children outside, trying not to jostle them as they went about their mission. He couldn't stop thinking about that mark on his son's arm, couldn't stop picturing the look on Zoe's face when she'd realized it was there.

Matthew…

Matthew bore the mark of one of those Breeders, the same mark that had been on Jayne's arm. He felt a pang of guilt for having come down hard on Vera, knowing now that if their places had been switched he would do the exact same thing. He had no idea how to react, no idea how the crew would react, and now Simon wanted to try dosing these children, and his son, with the same chemical that had caused a planet to lay down their lives literally.

They'd moved almost all the cribs outside when the mule pulled up, Ginger at the helm and Inara in the backseat. Nobody bothered telling her she should have been resting; at the sight of all those children her eyes grew hard and she dismounted to assist.

Ginger's mule was far larger than Serenity's, but it was still unlikely they'd get all the children on board. Kaylee and Book began loading them on as Simon raided the chemical stores, searching for the compound he knew these people would have been well stocked with. He piled as much Pax as he could into a nearby bag, bolting out the front to where the others were loading the children on.

If Zoe left with the first load they would be without their best fighter, but leaving Matthew was beyond her capabilities at that moment. Wash ran one hand over her unbroken arm.

"Go, we'll hold down the fort."

_Lying by the fire, enjoying the soft play of music as Vera plucked at a guitar in the corner. Zoe was seated between his legs, head resting back on his shoulder as Matthew snored on her chest. The room was quiet, everyone enjoying the moment of peace, of solitude. He'd felt his wife's breathing begin to even out, whispering in her ear that it might be time to head to bed, and as they bid the others goodnight he ran one hand over her hair. His son mewled at the movement before quieting once more, and in the silence of their bedroom he was satisfied that his whole world was safe._

She wanted to argue but they both knew that if there were more Alliance guards stationed elsewhere they would be quick to hit the vulnerable mule. She kissed him quickly and climbed aboard with Ginger and Inara.

Book watched them speed off. The House of Night had been prepped for the new arrivals, but there were still children here who needed their attention. The decision to keep Simon here had been hard; they wanted him working on the antidote, but he needed time to find the chemicals. Book hefted a rifle he'd grabbed from a deceased guard, turning back in time to see two more sneaking across the roof of the compound.

"Wash!"

He turned, narrowly avoiding a bullet, and pulled out his own weapon. Book took one man down, a fast shot to the thigh disabling him, and Kaylee took out the other along with Wash. The pilot turned, grinning.

"Can't get a thing past you pre-"

The gunshot rang out.

* * *

Vera was shaking. She was desperately whispering words of reassurance, more worried about the fact that Jayne's eyes were becoming flat and blank than she had been about the incessant energy. At least before he'd had something to channel it onto, now with Mal in that room and River so close she knew there wasn't much time.

"_These things take time baby."_

_Her son didn't stop staring at the bread in the oven, Mattie sitting beside him on the floor. Both of her boys looked equally hungry, waiting for the bread to be finished, and she rolled her eyes. Tomorrow they would need to head out hunting, since Jayne's energy levels seemed to be on the rise, but they had tonight._

_She sat down beside them, her five year old crawling into her lap as Mattie leaned his head on her knee. She would wait with them._

_She would always wait with them._

She reached out a shaking hand, wanting to run it over her son's dirty face and tell him everything would be ok. The veins in his neck stood out with the effort of staying focused on her, the smell of the Breeders having knocked him momentarily off the edge. She was so proud of him, struggling to hold on to that focus but she could see now that he was fighting a battle he couldn't win.

All they could do was wait.

A smug voice rang out from behind the door. "Luckily for me I've got some insurance here too."

The sound of doors opening had her turning, and her brief moment of distraction broke whatever hold she'd managed to keep on Jayne. He pushed through the door with Mattie, and for the barest second there was silence.

And then…

Then the carnage started. Jayne roared as Breeders charged at Mal, pushing into the fray and immediately tearing the jaws off of one. Mattie leapt at another, narrowly avoiding a grab as he went for the throat. The Breeder snarled, the sound dying quickly as Mattie tore out its jugular.

Mal fired off shots, destroying the leg of one Breeder, and Vera suddenly saw the woman who had taken Jayne all those years ago sneaking towards the doorway. She leapt over a table, slamming Carmichaels into the wall and pressing a blade to her throat. The same eyes that had looked at her with false compassion and then derision were filled with fear as the others tore apart the large room.

Vera snarled. "You ain't goin' nowhere."

A false bravado filled Carmichaels expression. "Proud of him are you? Proud of that monster who rape-"

"_Bi zui! Ni ya lien zhangde gen lanbi shide! _I'm proud of him every damn day. Don't you dare say another word 'bout it."

A slimy chuckle. "Oh yes, I'm sure there's plenty to be proud of. Tell me, was it the multiple murders or the way he took that girl and-"

Vera's hand moved infinitesimally closer to Carmichaels' neck, a thin little tear of blood moving from behind the blade. She glared, hating this woman, wishing she had killed her that night all those years ago.

Something changed.

The eyes weren't focused on her anymore, instead on the room behind her, and she was suddenly aware that the snarling and tearing had stopped. Vera turned her head, keeping the blade pressed firmly against Carmichaels' throat. Bodies littered the floor, Jayne delivering a final crushing blow to the skull of the last Breeder bearing the MA mark on its arm. The sound of bone and grey matter being pushed into the floor rang throughout the otherwise silent room. Mal was breathing heavily but Mattie's eyes seemed to be focused solely on Jayne.

Her son's eyes gleamed with the thrill of the violence, the fire in his blood, and Mattie's hackles stayed raised as they turned towards the woman pressed against the wall. Her boys, her special boys.

Her son turned, and Vera smiled, looking back at Carmichaels. "Guess he's got a score ta settle with you."

Instead of fear there was only that same smug satisfaction. "Guess again."

Vera suddenly saw the other woman's hand sneak over the dashboard, slamming another button before shooting a triumphant grin.

"Now you'll see just what you took that night."

Vera's eyes widened as she heard another cell door opening, and turned to see Jayne's muscles bunch as the glass to River's cage suddenly moved away.

* * *

Simon heard the screaming, running outside. They'd gotten the last children out the front but something had horrified Kaylee, and he pushed himself harder and harder. When he finally emerged he saw Book's body on the floor, the preacher lying prone on his side.

Simon bolted over to him, quickly rolling him over and gasping when he saw the blood covering the preacher's left temple. He heard the mule approaching once more in the distance, and looked over the dead bodies of guards who hadn't been there before. Wash was standing over the body of the guard Book had only disabled, a clean bullet hole now visible in the man's head. The pilot glared down at the body, eyes filled with hatred before he turned back to his crew.

Kaylee was shaking. "He…he shot him! Simon, please, is he?"

Simon checked his pulse. "He's alive, but only just. The bullet must have sliced across his face."

The bridge of Book's nose was bloodied, but that wasn't what held Simon's attention. The entire left eye had been split open by the round, blood pouring from the wound. The cheekbone was shattered, but the eye was the biggest issue. The exposure to this harsh environment, along with the size of the wound, would leave Book extremely vulnerable to infection if he actually survived at all.

Simon didn't have his full medkit, there wasn't time to get it from back inside the hospital, and he swallowed thickly.

"Kaylee, give me your mini-welder."

She shot him a look of horror and Wash's eyes went wide. "What…what're ya gonna do with it?"

"If I don't cauterize the wound he'll keep bleeding, and it won't just be an eye he loses, give me the welder."

Kaylee gasped as she passed it over. "His eye?"

Simon didn't bother answering, desperately trying to perform the procedure with a mechanic's welder instead of a full infirmary. He pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol, drenching the instrument before gritting his teeth.

He thought he heard Zoe in the distance.

He thought he heard Kaylee crying and Inara gasping.

He thought he heard the barest moan from his unconscious patient.

And then all he knew was the stench of burning flesh as he tried to save his friend's life.

* * *

Eyes locked.

_Flesh hitting flesh again and again, rapid thrusting sending grunts and moans through the night._

_Nails scratching at his skin, rough hands bruising her hips and ribcage as they fought, battled, lost and won again and again._

_That scent surrounded him, taking hold of his whole system and splitting him into pieces._

His eyes were nothing.

His skin was nothing.

His tongue was nothing.

His ears were nothing.

He could only inhale as that rich scent became a tidal wave, crashing over him and igniting sparks in his chest and fire in his blood and becoming an inferno. His heart pounded, the smell washing over him, coating his mouth and nostrils again and again until the air was drenched, soaked, saturated.

His system didn't register the swollen stomach, didn't take note of how thin her arms and legs were, didn't react to the way she tensed into attack position. After months of memory, faded reminders of that smell, suddenly it was unleashed and all too powerful. There was nothing else, only that smell, and suddenly he broke, bathed in it, head swimming as his blood screamed for the release that body would grant.

His legs tensed and he sprung.

* * *

Mal watched in horror as Jayne dove at River, pointing his side arm only to find Vera scream out. A blur of black suddenly shot through the air. Mattie had dived with Jayne, knocking the mercenary off his trajectory with a furious howl and throwing him to the ground.

The big man snarled viciously, Mattie's hackles raised as he bared his teeth and barked aggressively. Suddenly they had devolved into a growling, violent tumble. This wasn't the previous playing they had engaged in, it wasn't the pack mentality they had been following. This was Jayne scrambling to get to River and Mattie fighting tooth and claw to stop him.

Their fight continued and Mal looked at Vera, watching her two most precious gifts tearing at one another. It was clear who could win; Mattie had the teeth and power but Jayne's indifference to injury and single minded focus spelled disaster.

Vera's eyes flicked desperately over the room, suddenly seeing the blood packets in the corner refrigerator. Mal caught her drift quickly, bolting with her to the fridge and pulling out as many packets as he could. The tore them open, throwing them to River.

_Pain._

_Pain lancing through her as memories that didn't belong to her burst forth, seeing her own eyes screwed up in pain, seeing her beg, feeling the rage and violence as she committed his sin again and again._

_Must get there._

_Must take._

_Take._

_Take._

_Take._

She seemed frozen until Mal's voice cut into the air. "Ain't got all day 'Tross!"

_Not dead._

_Not frozen._

_Must help, must cover, must disguise._

She seemed to snap out of it, picking up the many packages and smearing the contents over her arms, legs, skin and hair. Vera moved to help her coat herself, desperately trying to cover the thick stench of pheromones in the air that was making Jayne react this way. Mal saw Carmichaels head for the door and pointed his weapon with a charming smile, his voice breathless.

"Jus' a family issue darlin', no need ta leave."

* * *

Chan looked at the monitors in disgust. His experiments, his beautiful, perfect plans all turning to shambles as the crew of Serenity decimated his guards, leaving bodies throughout the facility. His subjects were wheeled out until the room as empty, stolen away.

To make matters worse his Breeders had been destroyed in a bloody battle that was all too brief. One man, one escaped subject rendering his plans asunder, Captain Reynolds and that whore helping him as the beast attacked.

The girl, his finest candidate, was released from her cell and he watched in interest. At least he may be able to find out how she survived the initial coupling. His disappointment was swift as that oversized wolf took down the Breeder.

He hissed. Time to get out of here. It was a shame to lose Carmichaels after so many years of faithful service, but it was all in the name of science, she would understand. He rose from the chair, moving to pack his bags quickly and take the escape shuttle as far away from this place as possible. The room was sweltering, and he sniffed in frustration; hideaways were always so small.

He hit the recycled air unit on the wall, and suddenly smelt blood and decay. His blood ran cold as he realized where the air was cycling through.

No.

* * *

Suddenly there was silence as the fighting stopped.

_Fainter now._

_A second of respite as the scent disappeared, covered somehow. It wouldn't have impacted him for more than a minute but for…_

_Another smell._

_This one was ancient, barely familiar, but enough to spark his memory._

_This one spoke of needles and pain._

_This one spoke of torture._

_Desire fought with the debt, the former begging to be filled and the latter demanding his obedience. Something sharp hit his arm._

Jayne's blinked as Mattie bit him, locking eyes with the dog.

The hunt.

Both heads snapped towards the door and whatever they had detected sent them bolting from the room. Vera snapped at Mal.

"Follow them!"

He looked to River, her entire form covered in borrowed blood. "Got somethin' from Badger darlin'."

Her head snapped to him and he tossed her the wrapped gift he had kept strapped to his back before bolting after his wayward mercenary.

"_Gonna need ya ta do somethin' for me Cap'n."_

_Mal turned back, and Badger would have felt sympathy for the exhaustion in his eyes but for the knowledge that he needed the Captain to do this. "Got the girl a gift a while back, lil present for 'er birthday. Gonna need ya ta take it to her."_

_Mal shook his head. "Got no time fer findin' trinkets Badger."_

_He shook his head. "This ain't no trinket. She's gonna need it."_

_The Captain looked set to argue but Badger cut him off, eyes full of sincerity. "Please Mal, please do this."_

_Mal nodded as Badger gave him instructions. When the Captain finally left Badger sat down heavily, pulling the bottle of whisky from his desk drawer and taking a long drought. All those months ago he'd had it commissioned specially for her, and he had the feeling that given the events of her birthday it was unlikely she'd been able to unwrap it._

_It had cost him plenty, but he'd known it would be worth it. Girl like her should have the nicest the 'verse had to offer, and this was something he knew she would need._

_And from the look on Mal's face, that might be sooner than he'd hoped._

River caught the katana blade, the mesh wrapping falling away as she withdrew the sword. It was perfectly weighted, sized for her arm, and Mal saw a Chinese inscription flashing along the edge of the blade.

_**Fight For Serenity.**_

Vera hissed at him. "Follow my boys! We've got this."

He shot one last look at the vile woman who had deceived them all before bolting through the door. This was not the time for revenge.

At least, not on his part.

Vera smiled, grabbing Carmichaels' arm and pulling her to the centre of the room. The doctor wrinkled her nose at the bodies before turning to Vera.

"She can't cover herself in blood forever. You didn't do him any favours you know, you should have left him with us."

Vera nodded. "Prob'ly right, what mother wouldn't want her son turnin' inta one o' these things?"

An ugly look crossed the other woman's face. "What exactly do you think he is? He's just like the rest of them, only difference is he's be let out rather than being kept here like he should have been."

The sound of metal dragging on the floor made her head turn. River walked slowly, katana loosely gripped in one hand. The sight of the blood drenched girl was something out of nightmares, her head tilted as she approached. Carmichaels smiled.

"Initiate control sequence-"

"Shhhh."

The girl quirked a brow. "Mustn't rely on mental chains. So flimsy these days."

Carmichaels swallowed as the girl took another step forward, pausing momentarily as a brief flash of pain crossed her face. The doctor saw an opening.

"You have to think of your child, it can't-"

The sword ripped out, opening Marie's cheek like it was paper before returning to River's side. Bloody footprints were left on the floor as she moved closer again.

"Poison words, hush now."

She gripped the hilt of the blade tighter as she circled the taller woman. As she spoke her accent changed, slipping into something different, haunting and lyrical as her words spun around the room.

"Got a secret, more'n one. Seems 'bout time I'll tell you now."

She stopped in front of Marie. "Wondering about survival post-copulation. The mating led always to death, pain, anguish. Images of the girl, dragging on her belly back to the ship, barely alive."

The blade flicked out, severing Marie's hamstrings and sending her to her knees. She cried out in pain, helpless as the girl crouched in front of her.

"Wrong. Couldn't walk, couldn't crawl…had him to carry her. Wrapped in remainder of his soul, clasped tightly, hurried back for medical attention by beast laden with guilt and shame and horror."

Marie's eyes widened. "But…how?"

The girl smiled, a deceptively childlike look of innocence on her face. "Chassis, framework. Girl was beaten, bruised, but alive." She leaned even closer, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Biggest secret? Blood mixed with screams and howls of pain and fury…and pleasure."

Marie stared, unable to believe the words. Her ankles screamed in agony, tears slipping down her cheeks. She couldn't walk, couldn't run. She had never felt more vulnerable in her entire life. The girl reached out one hand, leaving a bloody smear as she stroked the open wound on Marie's cheek.

"Scared, frightened, finally left exposed. No one to carry you."

She looked down at the blade. "Present, commemoration of legal age. A gift from the pauper to the princess. Only to be used for very special occasions. You are not special."

She stood, taking a step back, and Marie's eyes filled with relief. "Oh, _made_, thank you, thank you! I'll never…you're so…thank you!"

The girl nodded, flashing her a smile. "Only to be used for slaying dragons."

Tears slipped down Marie's cheeks as she smiled, in agony from the torn hamstrings but reassured, relieved beyond belief. Suddenly the girl's hand whipped out like lighting, the blade stinging the air as it found its path, slicing easily before returning to her side.

Vera looked down at the decapitated body. "Slayed that dragon, huh darlin'?"

River nodded, smiling, before suddenly her expression changed. The sword dropped from her hands as they rushed to her stomach, and Vera flew to her side as she collapsed. She hissed in pain, writhing, and Vera suddenly saw something on River's inner thigh that made her heart stop.

Blood.


	36. Chapter 36

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Big kisses to **Cedelede**, who got a lil preview of this ages ago and has been waiting patiently ever since!

* * *

Mal sprinted, pushing himself as hard as he could in order to catch up with his wayward merc and Mattie. The place was huge, cavernous, but the faintest scent of sweat and blood gave him a good indication of where they had gone.

The footprints made of blood and dirt also helped.

He rounded a corner and stopped short. Jayne was crouched low, hunched over, his head held in his hands as if trying to keep it from falling off. Mattie was pacing in front of him, and every so often the mercenary would lunge back in the direction he had come, as if ready to bolt back to where they'd left River and fulfil the call in his blood.

And every time, without fail, Mattie would issue a sharp bark that had Jayne retracting into himself once more.

Mal approached carefully. "Who're we trackin' Jayne?"

The big man looked up at him, blue eyes haunted as his voice came out in a harsh pant. "Leader."

He didn't offer more, but Mal had an inkling as to what he was trying to get at. They had never managed to pin exactly who was behind The Program and all of its vile subsidiaries, but Jayne and Mattie seemed to have found him. The corridor led to a single wall panel, one that Mal thought looked vaguely familiar. In fact it looked just like the panel that had held the secret lab where River had been kept with those Breeders.

He looked at Mattie, ignoring the little voice that asked why he was looking to a dog for answers, and the wolfhound lowered his head, growling in the direction of the panel. Mal nodded once, moving up to it, turning back for a moment.

"Jayne, I know ya ain't havin' the best of days, but ya reckon ya can hold it together fer a little while longer?"

Despite his hunched position Mal thought he saw the faintest nod, and the Captain sent out a prayer to whatever deity might be watching this clusterfuck before skimming one hand over the panelling. He found a point where pressure reaped slight resistance, and drew his side arm.

He didn't have Jayne's strength, but the bullet made quick work of the control opener that had been concealed.

The door slid open.

* * *

No.

No no no.

Not that one. Not that same Breeder they had seen on Persephone, the one who had destroyed the other MA, the one who had taken the girl. Any other day Chan would have been relieved to see the specimen, ready to order his immediate capture, but as the monitors around the tiny room showed, there were no guards. No doctors, no staff, no one left. Bodies littered the hallways on every screen, and he was alone.

He needed to get out of here. The Breeders were too fast, too insane, too deranged. He would have no chance to reason, no chance to contain, and not even the ones reared in his labs had the same fail safe coding as the Academy candidates, let alone a Breeder brought up outside.

He threw his journals in a nearby bag, along with whatever clothes he could grab. There was no need to obtain supplies, the emergency shuttle had plenty, but he needed to get there right away. He turned, ready to enter the security exit codes, when suddenly a gunshot ripped into the wall.

He gasped as the door slid open. Malcolm Reynolds held his pistol straight, eyes narrowed as he stepped inside the little room.

"So, yer the man who's been causin' all kind o' trouble fer me an' mine."

Chan swallowed, deciding on feigning confusion. "Captain Reynolds, I'm not the head of this operation, just a drone! I can take you to him, help you get him-"

"You think I'm stupid? You got a nice badge on yer shirt sayin' Program Chief, how dumb do ya think I am?"

Chan kept his hands straight up as his eyes narrowed. "You've already destroyed my staff and taken my subjects. You have _ruined _over thirty years of work and research. Do you have any idea how long this project has been in the works, how detailed our findings are? You are single-handedly destroying some of the greatest breakthroughs we have ever made?"

Reynolds eyes were cold. "Breakthroughs? I've seen yer breakthroughs. I've seen a boy steal his sister away and spend months fightin' to bring her back to the edge o' sanity. I've seen you steal babies from their mothers, seen you turn 'em into animals designed fer nuthin' but violation. I've seen ya use a whole _gorram_ planet as yer petri dish and leave 'em dead in the streets an' a 'verse filled with monsters and you wanna lecture me about _breakthroughs_?"

Chan shook his head. "You don't understand, my research-"

"Yer research has destroyed lives. Millions of 'em. An' if that weren't bad enough, you've brought my crew inta it. You've turned my merc inta some kind o' violent monster, you've turned my Reader into a victim o' yer schemes again an' again. An' you've made the rest of us watch, tryin' ta pick up the pieces of them lives you destroyed. You stole my godson, left my first mate broken, assaulted my woman, pushed my medic ta breakin' point. You've fucked up everything you've touched, leavin' these ripples headin' out inta the 'verse and continuin' the fuck up for you."

Chan watched as grey eyes held his with an element of disbelief. "Is there any part o' ya that feels guilty 'bout that?"

Chan was not Marie, he was no actress. The truth was etched in his gaunt features, carved in the set of his mouth and the flat stare of his black eyes. There was no guilt, no shame, no feelings of remorse; he had done it for science.

Hayden Chan curled his lip. "You and yours have killed too. You've left bodies in your wake, the animal you call Jayne the worst of them all, and every single one of you has blood on your hands. You make it sound like I'm the only person in the room who has done wrong; Captain, don't deceive yourself, you're a bad guy. Even now you are going to kill me in cold blood."

Reynolds chuckled at that, shooting him a reproachful smirk.

"Bad guy? I ain't no bad guy. Don't get me wrong, I wanna kill ya. Wanna shoot ya full'a holes, leave ya in the dust. But that don't make me a bad guy. Seems ta me if there was a bad guy in this here story it'd be you." He smiled. "Don't worry though, I ain't gonna kill ya."

Chan's obvious relief was downright embarrassing.

Mal looked over his shoulder, whistling sharply. "He's all yers."

Chan watched as the Breeder emerged from the shadows. The chest, arms and back were covered in swirling black patterns, broad shoulders and thick biceps flexing. Behind the huge Breeder was an equally enormous wolfhound, teeth bared as he snarled, and it was difficult to say which of the two animals was more terrifying.

Chan glanced back at Reynolds, who gave him a charming grin.

"Way I see it he's got a debt ta collect from yer bones. An' damned if I ain't happy ta let him."

* * *

The House of Night was chaotic. Girls ran throughout the huge foyer, the only area big enough to hold all the injured in one place, tending to children and assisting wherever they could. Simon had worked frantically on Book, and with the bleeding stopped he'd done all that he could.

Inara held the preacher's hand, wincing when he moaned. The left side of his face was bandaged, and the time would come when Simon had to tell him the reality of what had happened. With the eye socket destroyed, and the eyeball decimated, Book would spend the rest of his life half blind. Simon had been grey as he told the rest of them, Ginger forcing him to drink a mixture of protein smoothie and strong liquor to help keep him on his feet. They could see he wanted nothing more than to curl up, to rest, but with screaming infants possibly infected by the Ares compound he had no respite.

He was currently in the other corner of the room, ordering Wash and Kaylee as they attempted to construct some basic equipment for him to use. The Pax was far less volatile than the Ares compound, but he needed to calculate the dilution, and he still needed to see if he could find information on side effects. The thought of turning children into docile lumps or snarling Reavers horrified him; right now the most important thing was establishing which children had been infected and which hadn't. Dosing a child who had not been subject to the Ares compound could lead to disaster.

Inara brought an ice chip to Book's lips, relieved when they parted. His voice came out a hoarse rasp, a whisper.

"I…I should have killed him."

Inara shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "Wash did. It's not your way, you did all that you could."

The preacher shook his head, wincing as the movement caused him pain. "No…not my way. My way is _go se_."

He gripped her hands, his good eye suddenly opening a crack, and she fought back more tears at the hollow guilt in that eye. "Might've been Wash, or Simon…K-k-kaylee. My way left us open to attack."

"Shhh." She ran a hand over his hair gently, struggling to think of something she could say.

Book coughed. "H-h-haven was my way. We w-w-were vulnerable. W-w-when I killed that man…I should have remembered."

Inara shook her head. "No. We need you and your way, now more than ever. Don't forget that."

The smoother Simon had reissued moments before began to kick in, and his eye closed sleepily, cutting off the rest of what he was saying. Inara took a deep breath, fighting the urge to crumple, turning and heading towards the others to see what help she could offer.

From where he was pouring over chemical molecules and a cortex screen filled with calculations Simon breathed for what seemed like the first time in hours. The distillation of Pax required had to be in equal proportions to the Ares compound, but he'd managed to grab journals detailing the amounts children were given. The scientists were nothing if not thorough; children issued the Ares compound had been immediately marked based on their initial testing.

He pulled out a multi-doser, this one with refillable needle points that could be changed quickly. It was the same set up he used for crew inoculations, and as he filled the large chamber he felt relieved that only about twenty of the children had been given the compound, and none of them bore MA on their arms. There were a few IAs, the rest designated LBs. The LBs were to be injected first; they were most at risk of tachycardia and death. Following them the IAs could be treated.

As he moved over to the first crib a hand grabbed his arm, and he looked into Zoe's stoic visage. Matthew was clutched tightly in her arms, peering out at the busy world as his mother looked at Simon. He wanted to push ahead, to get to the children, but she shifted her hand, revealing an expanse of Matthew's arm.

MA

Simon's eyes went wide. "Oh…_tamade._"

Zoe nodded. "Do him first."

Simon shook his head. "I…I can't. The chemical…it's bonded too strongly with his system. I've got to think of another way to help him, giving him this would be like throwing a bullet at someone's chest and having it bounce right off."

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you tellin' me you can't save him?"

Simon straightened. "No…I'm telling you I need more time."

She wanted to fight him, he could see it. Maybe a long time ago she would have drawn her sidearm, pointed it at his head and ordered him to fix Matthew immediately. But things were different; she knew he wouldn't risk her son if he could help it, so she forced her objections back. He could see the fear and pain breaking through her calm shell, and was struck by her strength, keeping herself together at a time like this. Simon nodded, looking at her solemnly.

"Zoe, this isn't a death sentence. I can try to help him, I will find a way."

He moved forward to start inoculating the children, but not before he heard her whisper to herself.

"Not a death sentence. But maybe a life one."

Wash slipped a hand over her shoulder, and she leaned back, taking a second to let a solitary tear make its way down her cheek before moving to help the others.

Kaylee moved near to Ginger, who was doling out bottles for the girls to take to the children. The older woman looked exhausted but determined.

"When can we call their folks?"

Ginger sighed. "Simon says shouldn't be too long; the gear you rigged will let him test them in a couple of hours at most. Must say I'm relieved to hear it."

Kaylee nodded. "We gotta go back for Mal an' the others."

Ginger agreed. "You comm them, we'll take the mule back soon as I'm done here."

* * *

The girl had been slathered in blood, but this particular trickle, moving down her thigh, seemed to scream out the problem. Even without the girl panting and wincing Vera would have been able to recognise early labour when she saw it. Her grandbaby wasn't due for another three weeks, but as a blood slick hand grabbed her arm tightly Vera knew there wasn't much time.

_Something in her stomach made her flinch, twisting. Ginger took one look at her young charge, the girl's face screwed up in pain, and she knew the time had come. She led her into the bedroom, laying out towels as Mattie began to pace, whining softly._

Vera pulled out her comm unit, praying that Mal was in a position to answer.

* * *

"Thanks Kaylee. Jus' lettin' Jayne take care o' some business. See ya in a few. Over an' out."

Mal clipped the comm unit back on his hip, wincing as the crack of a bone breaking echoed through the hallway. The unit buzzed loudly just as he was ready to call for Jayne, and he whipped it out.

"Mal here."

"Cap'n, she's in labour, you gotta get her outta here now!"

He didn't reply, bolting down the hallway as fast as he could. Labour, his Reader was in labour, they were still stuck in this vile place, and he didn't have a chance to call out to Jayne. Even if he did, he had no idea how long the big man would hold himself off if he got too close to River. No time, there was no time.

He rounded back into the laboratory, eyes flicking past Breeder corpses and the decapitated body of Marie Carmichaels. He didn't bother voicing his approval as he spotted River, braced against Vera's chest, her breathing harsh and erratic. Her eyes were wild and clouded, she seemed to be struggling to pull herself upright, but another contraction ripped through her body, stealing air from her lungs.

Her voice came out a desperate, fragile whisper. "Can't go can't go no time rains of fire through the air no time."

He scooped her up. "Ain't got a choice darlin', we gotta bolt."

He ignored her weak protests, struggling to keep a grip on the still blood soaked girl in his arms as he ran through the passages, trying to mix speed and caution, aware that one trip could lead to more than just a broken bone. As he exited the hospital his eyes flicked over the grounds, searching for their transport.

He felt a jolt of relief when he spotted Kaylee and Ginger up ahead with the mule, ignoring the horrified questions about River and telling them to move, move now. Vera didn't get on with them, and he looked at her carefully, already too aware of her next words.

"You go, take her ta that brother o' hers, I'm stayin' here."

He didn't bother arguing, shouting for Ginger to move and speeding away.

Suddenly a horrific explosion filled the air, sending heat in every direction. Mal turned back as Ginger fought to keep them on track, seeing the facility destroyed in a fireball.

* * *

**Moments Before**

The man cowered.

Fear was filling the air, the stench like mouldy apples, sharp acidity that made his stomach heave. Had to make this stench go away, had to clean it from the air, from his skin. His pack mate circled, closing off the exit as he approached.

He knew, somehow he thought he knew. "You did this."

The man shook his head, snivelling. "P-p-please…I have a family."

His eyes flicked over the badge. "Chan…you did this to me, to her."

There was another attempted protest but he had no interest in hearing it. His hand shot out, wrapping around the man's jaw and swiftly dislocating it. Tears filled the black eyes as the pain and movement rendered him speechless, and Jayne smiled. He kicked out, shattering a knee cap and sending the man to the floor, where he scrabbled.

Tear out the spine and use it for a belt.

Skin him, keeping the pelt as a trophy.

Pop out each eyeball, one at a time, so he could watch as they were crushed.

Open up each thigh and let his pack mate feed.

Break every bone, starting with the littlest toe and ending with the skull.

So many options.

The man made as if to drag himself to the door, only to land heavily on his stomach in front of massive jaws filled with sharp teeth. Jayne's pack mate growled low, dangerous. The man cried out in terror, the sound coming out as a muffled whine.

Jayne smirked. "Don't worry…ya can't talk…" He stepped forward, picking up one arm and planting a boot in the man's back to hold him in place. The snap echoed through the tiny room, followed by a gurgled howl of agony as he twisted the arm to breaking point.

"But ya can still scream."

A heavy step smashed half the ribcage, another crack as he broke the other arm. He crouched down low, blood hissing as he pulled the man's head back from the floor. Violence, clear violence, outlet for rage, fury, revenge. Old friend, his blood humming it's approval. The screaming had died down to strangled, agonised whimpers and cries, and Jayne wanted to take his time.

He wanted this blood to run for a long time.

He wanted this debt to be paid in full.

Pain for pain.

Mattie's head snapped up and Jayne knew his pack mate had noticed something that required attention. No matter, the pain could last a long time even without an audience. He grinned at the man, all too aware of just how long it would take for him to die from these injuries. He looked over at Mattie, growling quickly, and his pack mate approached.

He pointed a finger as he rolled the man onto his back. Mattie obliged, tearing a hole in the stomach. The intestines spilled out, drenching the floor in blood and gore, but the heart was still beating, and would continue to do so.

At least for a while.

Jayne stood, looking over to the monitors on the wall. He smashed his hand into the grid, obliterating the power source. No calling for help.

Almost done.

Mattie barked sharply and he turned, knowing it was time to go. He followed his pack mate from the room, turning to pull the door closed and smash it so it couldn't be reopened. He shot one last look at the man inside.

Should have suffered more.

Another bark, this one filled with concern, and he was suddenly hit by that smell. Not the rot of apples, sickening and filled with decay and putrefaction. The other one, the perfect one that had become muted and then briefly lost as the vengeance screamed bloody murder. Now the rich scent of ripened fruit that caused his blood to race was also filled with fear, and something else. Something was coming. He bolted after his pack mate, back into the room where he had lost control and been barely stopped by his oldest companion.

The bodies littering the floor didn't catch his eye, but the bloodied circle did. Most of that blood was from elsewhere, smelling vaguely medicinal and overly sterilized, but there were a few garnet coloured drops of something else. Something that made his mouth water and his head ache at the same time; desire, lust and concern seemed to clang like chimes in his mind.

A swollen stomach, evidence of his worst sin, his ultimate violation.

Birth.

The girl.

He snarled furiously, shame and guilt taking hold of him, and suddenly his system snapped. Suddenly the meagre hints of control he had barely held on to disappeared, suddenly his mind fractured and he knew what had to be done. It was time, time to go. The other debts had been called, paid in full, he had been sure of that. No amount of begging, bargaining, attack had resulted in the final debt, the ultimate payment.

Last act of penance.

He could do it himself.

The smells here were fresh, no more than ten minutes old, and he knew that only he and his pack mate were left in the building. He turned to urge Mattie elsewhere, but the dog held firm, and he would have felt pride in the loyalty if he could feel anything other than rage.

They had passed the control room, and he sprinted back, locating an energy core. A conversation barely remembered, a girl like sunshine telling him about crossing wires, and he knew what he had to do. He ripped the panelling from the wall and reached inside.

* * *

Vera watched as Mal sped away, feeling the silence of the woods. They tended to seem quiet to outsiders, but never to her. She always knew the sounds, the life of the forest hissing and snarling and crawling and creeping, vibrant in rain or shine. Now it was still. It was too quiet, they were never this quiet, not when wild dogs and poisonous creatures and a myriad of birds traipsed the forest. When the silence descended her heart began to pound. Too quiet.

She turned back to the building, suddenly filled with horror, and she began to sprint forwards.

"Please, no…"

She was knocked back by the violent explosion, barely shielding herself from the tidal wave of fire and heat.


	37. Chapter 37

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine

**A/N: **Ok folks, you've trusted me this far.

* * *

Mal's ears rang with the explosion and the screaming in the mule. Tears were pouring down River's face, one hand clutched against her stomach as the labour pains made their presence known all too well. The other hand was outstretched, desperately reaching back for the destroyed facility where they had come from.

She was trying to speak, her words interrupted as pain shot through her small body. "No!" Gasp. "All wrong!" Hiss. "Can't end like this! Can't fall away!" An anguished cry of pain and sorrow.

Ginger pushed harder, and Mal saw a tear slip down her cheek as she pressed back to the house. He knew she wasn't doing it at his orders, or even Vera's, but for the girl currently crying out like her heart had broken into pieces. Kaylee was clutching River's arm, her own tears dripping onto the younger girl's face as she gasped and panted through the soul pain. The beautiful face made of sunshine was cracked, horrified, agonised.

He comm'd ahead. "Wash, tell Simon ta get ready, we're bringin' River in."

_Jayne and Mattie just blew up the hospital, Vera was knocked down by the blast._

Wash sounded exhausted. "Roger that, everythin' ok?"

_My son has been marked as an MA, same as Jayne. Simon says he can't give him the same cure as the others._

Mal gritted his teeth. "Girl's in labour."

_I can't breathe with my albatross in this kind of agony, I can't move with Kaylee's face like that._

There was silence on the other end as Wash relayed the message before the comm crackled to life once more. "Simon says bring her to the upper level. Babies are finished being innoced, gotta wait til the test results come back."

_I don't know how we'll get through this, I don't know if I can be strong enough, I don't know how to help my baby._

Mal didn't say a word for a moment. It was the strangest feeling, knowing that Wash wasn't telling him something, and knowing that he wasn't telling Wash something. He swallowed, realizing that one hand was gripping River's knee as her every pained cry rang through him like a gong being struck.

_I can't leave Vera behind but if I don't get River back to the house I don't know what will happen._

"Roger. Over an' out."

* * *

Heat.

"_Mama, how'd you know so much 'bout buildin' fires?"_

"_Cuz I spent a lot o' time in the woods baby."_

"_Were ya ever scared?"_

"_Sure, lots o' times."_

"_What'd ya do when ya were scared?"_

"_I tried ta be scarier so I could scare the scary things."_

"_Did it work?"_

"_Sometimes."_

"_An' what'd ya do when it didn't work?"_

"_I kept fightin' til it did."_

"_Yer real brave Mama."_

"_Naw baby, jus' now I got somethin' worth fightin' for."_

From where she had been thrown to the ground Vera struggled to sit up. The building was charred, blackened, and she thought the circuitry must have been fried somehow, sending the place into a massive explosion as the power core became uncontained. The heat from the flames that were still licking parts of the building scorched her face. The sky cracked and opened, rain pouring down to nullify the flames.

She didn't notice.

_The pain was unlike anything she had ever experienced in her young life. From the look on Ginger's face she knew it was bad, worse than expected. Her body was too small to have handled the birth, she had lost so much blood, and Ginger had been forced to cut the baby from her stomach since he was breech. Her hips just weren't wide enough._

_Her head swam, she struggled to stay conscious as Mattie whined, frightened. She moved one hand, barely able to lift it she was so weak, placing it on his ears and offering a soft croon. She saw Ginger by the bed._

"_W-want him."_

_Ginger shook her head. "You're too weak, sweetheart. I still don't know if…you need to rest. You need to recover."_

_Vera forced herself into a more upright position, gasping as the pain sent white spots in front of her eyes. "G-g-give me my baby."_

_Ginger passed over a tiny bundle, carefully arranging the pillows so Vera could hold him without requiring any actual strength. Her breathing was laboured as she struggled to bring the tiny person in her arms into focus._

_Blue eyes._

_Cobalt blue eyes, just like the eyes she looked at every day in the mirror. Tiny tufts of black hair, little nose, strong little jaw. Tears began to slip down her face as she looked at the greatest thing she had ever created, the most important decision she had ever made, the person she would fight to protect._

_When she had found Mattie she had found a friend, a partner. When they found Ginger they found a home. Now, holding her son in her arms, she had found everything. He stared up at her with those eyes, and even as consciousness began to leave her, even as the pain became too great to stand, she still smiled._

Vera pulled herself to her feet, letting them take her to that decimated building, and with each step she moved faster, her walk becoming a run. The pounding of her feet in the ground echoed around her, memories skimming the surface of the forest.

Step.

_Her son and Mattie, covered in mud, grinning widely as they pounced on frogs and toads and other wildlife. When little Jayne tripped Mattie would catch him, never minding as the boy pulled at his friend's fur. She had scooped her boy up in her arms for a tight hug, uncaring of the mud that tracked her clothes as her oldest friend pushed his head between her arms to enjoy the embrace._

Step.

_Her son, knuckles bloodied but otherwise uninjured as he moved into the house. She could hear the jeering taunts outside, furious townsfolk saying he wouldn't be allowed to tussle with the other boys anymore. She had run one hand over his head, noting how tall he was at only nine, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he apologised for disappointing her. She shook her head. Never._

Step.

_Her son was a tall teenager, grinning as he exited the bedroom, finally bereft of the incessant energy that plagued his body. It wouldn't last, but the edge was taken off. The girl had smiled, blown him a kiss, and he sat heavily on the couch. For the first time in days his eyes closed and her boy slept. Hours later she had thrown a blanket over him and Mattie, who knew a good idea when he saw one. Both of her boys drooled in their sleep._

Step.

_Her son pacing incessantly, fists clenching as he struggled to control the darkness. She needed only to whistle once for Mattie to bring the outdoor packs they used, grabbing her large boy's wrist and hauling him out the door. He'd set out at a run, knowing Mattie would join him, and she'd followed behind. The night was spent fishing, ending when Jayne and Mattie caught one of the huge crocodiles that lurked the nearby rivers. She'd grinned proudly when they hauled in the meat, her son's face looking calm for once._

Step.

_Showing Jayne how to make fish stew, roasted vegetables, fresh bread for the table. The girls crowding around, always eager to help, laughing as he blushed at ribald jokes. She smiled as she pulled out the fish he and Mattie had caught that day, the dog stealing scraps from the table and willing hands, pleased with his bounty. Jayne's eyes had lit up when he'd made his first loaf of bread on his own, immediately splitting the goods with his hairy brother, both boys unnaturally silent as they greedily enjoyed their spoils. He'd saved the biggest piece for her._

Step.

_The mayor trying to take what wasn't being offered, her son reacting to the harsh words and easy grabs of his mother and family. Mattie barking furiously as her son smashed a fist into one man's face, tearing the men apart before they could hurt his girls. When the lawmen came he had refused to be hidden._

Step.

_Waking up and knowing he was gone. Mattie had sat at the front door for weeks, whining softly, wishing his friend would return. He hadn't been alone; she'd sat down beside him, taking the giant head in her lap and offering words of comfort. He would be back. One day, he would be back._

Step.

_Letters of vague details from ship to ship. They changed one day, now filled with short, poorly spelled stories of a crew, of a Captain. A medic entered the picture, and so did a girl, the latter noted with irritation and distaste, the writer unaware that she took up most of his words. She sent him things at whatever post station he might hit, brightly knitted hats, a new sheath for his blade, socks, lots of socks. The last letter had come two weeks after Miranda._

Step.

_Running away from the hospital that night, Mattie staying close on her heels. She'd stopped when she reached a clearing, falling to her knees, finally letting the tears slip over her cheeks as she held the son she thought she might never see again. The mark on his arm didn't matter, the scientist's dark words didn't matter, all that mattered was that her family was whole once more. Mattie nuzzled against his little friend, licking Jayne's face as Vera cried out in relief._

Finally her steps brought her to the building, and she slipped inside. Beams fell, pieces of charred debris slipping from walls, but she avoided them, bolting through the hallways. There had to be a control room, there had to be somewhere her boy was.

"Mattie? Jayne? Mattie!"

_The puppy was sodden, weak, but the heartbeat was strong. She smiled as he nuzzled into her stomach, rubbing him down with a spare cloth as the fire warmed them both. Black eyes blinked up at her, and when he licked her face she had giggled. The bruises hurt, she was still in pain, but looking into those eyes she felt something she hadn't felt in all her thirteen years of life. Loved. And she knew, undoubtedly, that she loved him back._

_He was bossy and annoying, always nudging her away from dangers, nipping at her heels to get her attention. Sometimes an overgrown puppy whining for cuddles, other times a mothering bully who told her off when she did risky things that frightened him. Her stomach grew, he became even more protective._

_She loved every second of it._

_He curled against her back as she slept, head resting on her neck, and over the years his sleeping position rarely, if ever, changed. Back when she saw customers he would wait by the door patiently, relieved when they left and he could play with her again. She never ordered him to do anything, but when they hunted together he knew what she wanted, the two of them working as a finely tuned machine. When she lost sight of him she would whistle sharply, the sound never failing to bring him back to her._

She whistled as loud as she could, following it up with another yell. "Mattie!"

They had to be here, they had to answer her. They just had to.

A muffled bark suddenly drew her attention, and she raced back through another hallway. There was her oldest friend, limping from the damage to his leg, one ear singed. And clutched gently between his teeth, dragged carefully across the debris covered floor, was her son.

Another beam fell, and she flew to his side, grabbing Jayne's arm and hauling as hard as she could. She remembered a time years ago when Ginger had smiled as she commented on how big Jayne had gotten, and Vera had grinned back, patting his chest and saying her boy was worth his weight in gold. Ginger had replied that given how difficult the birth was he had better be, and Vera had hugged her big boy's waist. He'd looked down at her, ready to apologise, and she'd shaken her head.

She would have done it all over again.

_River was curled up on the couch, Mattie resting his huge head in the nook of her crossed legs. His nose would occasionally rise, sniffing at the swollen stomach, and when Vera approached he gave her a soft whuff of greeting._

_The girl smiled as Vera sat down next to her. "How're ya feelin'?"_

_One pale hand was gently stroking Mattie's hair, the other resting on her stomach. Brown eyes looked at her, a sorrowful smile on her young face._

"_Missing so much."_

_She knew who the girl was talking about. Vera nodded. "That he is." _

_Both women were silent for a moment, but River picked up Vera's hand very gently, placing it over her stomach with a soft smile. Vera felt the tiny flutter, the little kick of her grandchild, and a tear managed to escape her eye. Her boy should be here, should be feeling these moments, should be trying to comprehend the incredible thing that had been created._

_River's head sank. "Pain. So much pain. Can't see for the agony."_

_Vera kept her hand on the girl's stomach, watching as she adjusted the heavy cargo jacket over her shoulders. She didn't need to ask why the girl liked wearing it so much, didn't bother wondering why the slim form looked just right suited up in the jacket that came almost to her knees._

_The girl tipped her head, inhaling slightly, and Vera smiled. She knew these two paths were intertwined in a horrible, violent, violating way. She knew they had suffered and continued to do so, knew her boy was fighting to pay a debt, to rectify numerous wrongs, to pay penance for his sin._

_But the girl had just tried to inhale some tiny reminder of Jayne from that jacket, even though she didn't realize she was doing it. As the baby kicked again Vera let herself feel, even for a moment, that maybe things would be ok someday._

She gritted her teeth as she and Mattie pulled Jayne's unconscious form, avoiding the falling walls that crashed around them. Finally the air breathed cleaner, and she pulled him out into the rapidly approaching night, tripping and falling backwards on wet dirt.

The rain poured.

Tears filled her eyes as Mattie limped over to her, one leg clearly broken. He was missing a chunk of his ear, part of his fur was singed, and still he shuffled painfully to her side, licking and nuzzling and checking over her. He began to whine, turning to look at his friend, and she rose to her knees beside her son.

One shoulder was badly burned, she thought he had a broken collar bone, but it was hard to tell. His skin was covered in ink and old scars, and she reached out a hand to skim over his face. An open wound ran from his cheekbone to his jaw, blood trickling down over his neck. The other half of his face was bloodied, his cheekbone was smashed.

Her breathing shook, Mattie pressing into her side and whining sadly, apologetically, mournfully. She leaned forward, reaching out one hand.

She didn't need to. She already knew what answers his skin was going to provide, she already knew she would not be met with life and vitality, indications of his continued existence. She had to do it anyway, feeling his inked neck with shaking fingers, but the expression on her son's face told her everything she needed to know. The eyes were closed, the face was calm, and everything held the same feeling.

Peace.

Calm.

Serenity.

She began to gasp, unable to draw in enough air, clutching Mattie with one hand as the other ran over his face again and again.

"No, no no no, please no. Baby…please no. Please?"

As her heart broke into pieces, as her body began to shake, Vera knew that there was absolutely only one reason for that expression to be on her son's face.

He was gone.


	38. Chapter 38

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine

**A/N: **Seriously? You're still reading? Phew :) Shout out to **Katya Jade **who picks up on my mistakes for me! Also, I'm so sorry for the delay, real life and all that :(

* * *

She finally allowed her trembling hand to press against his neck, wincing when his skin still felt warm, but there was nothing. No answering tattoo against the tips of her fingers, no tiny flutter to indicate that the heart was still beating. It had to be there, this couldn't be how his story ended, not when she had spent her life fighting this. Not when he still hadn't seen the girl's warm brown eyes grow soft at the thought of him, not when she herself still stood. She could not outlive her only child.

She waited.

She waited and wished and hoped and wanted and pleaded and begged.

And waited.

And still there was nothing.

He was dead.

* * *

_Reaching out for the mind clouded in darkness, the one as fractured as her own had once been and still could be. Further, pushing further, past a mother's anguish and a friend's simple, agonised thoughts. It was there, it had to be there, she had to find it._

_There it was, but there it wasn't._

_Where crackling energy and pain and darkness and debt and desire should be swirling there was…_

_A void._

_Blackness._

_Nothing._

His sister's screams rang through his ears, shaking his bones and making his chest ache. The cure had worked on the children, they had been collected by their frightened mothers, but as rain and hail pelted the windows of the house the night seemed to howl its pain.

From her position on the bed River tensed again and cried out in agony. Inara and Kaylee had worked with damp towels to wipe the blood from her face, her hair, her body. Tears had sluiced tracks down her cheeks, her hands gripping the bedspread and her head thrown back.

Ginger forced another one of her protein smoothies into his hand and he took it without question. He was exhausted, but there was no way he was going to be anything less than attentive when his little sister gave birth to her first child.

River was sweating, hair sticking to her head as Mal paced. "Why's it hurtin' her so much? Zoe was-"

"Zoe doesn't weigh 90lb soaking wet. She's too weak, somehow she's too weak, it's as if..." Simon swallowed. "It's as if she doesn't want to fight anymore."

Mal went back to pacing until Ginger grabbed his arm, pushing him out of the room. Inara and Kaylee left to grab more towels and suddenly Simon was alone in the room with his sister.

He checked her under the blanket, and drew a shuddering breathe as he looked up at her. "Ok _mei mei, _you're going to have to stay strong now. I can't do a c-section, not with you still covered in blood, the risk of infection is too high. I need you to push on the next contraction."

The others entered as an agonised scream ripped from River's throat. Her head fell back and she cried out, trying to draw in enough oxygen. Simon kept up the words of encouragement along with Inara and Kaylee as they entered.

He fought the urge to break down.

He'd been fighting it this long.

_She felt her brother's exhaustion and struggled to stay focused but that void was consuming her, dragging her down into murky dark depths where there was no hint of life._

Her head slumped back against the pillow, breathe shallow, eyes at half-mast. She was exhausted, too weak, too fragile, and the defeat in her eyes terrified him more than anything he had experienced so far. He was losing her.

* * *

_She searched, fighting the distraction of pain._

Nothing.

_He had to be there, he had to be._

There was no pain.

_Some spark, some reminder._

There was no rage.

_Agony distracted her, ripping through her body like a knife._

There was no agony.

_Couldn't go yet, it wasn't time._

There was nothing.

_Needed him._

Floating through a blackness darker and quieter than he had ever experienced.

_Tears pouring down her cheeks; the black was so dark, so quiet, so still._

The silence was deafening.

_No sign of the energy, the incessant life force, the spark._

This stillness was suffocating.

He twisted, turned, struggling towards something, anything other than the blankness of this hollow place. He searched for light, for movement, for a scent to guide him, anything to lead him towards something other than this emptiness.

_Couldn't hold this connection, not with the pain, not with the weakness._

_One chance, one chance to send something out. Use everything, give everything, fight with everything to send out that one thought._

The silence was broken, four words spoken in a haunting, lyrical voice that sent shivers down his spine.

"_Copper for a kiss?"_

Something.

Something in the dark that was real, something that sang out and broke through the clouding in his head, the cobwebs across his mind, the emptiness of this place. A debt, payment not yet delivered, burden still evident.

Another voice.

"_When yer done, when ya find what yer lookin' fer, ya head ta Purgatum. Ya hear what she has ta say."_

He wasn't done. This blackness couldn't keep him, not with that debt hanging over his shoulders. He couldn't go into the night, couldn't fade away, couldn't find any measure of peace in this suffocating nothingness. He struggled, trying to find a way out, trying to swim up from the murky depths of this world that encircled him, swamped him, drowned him.

Needed something to tell him, some idea of direction, some way out.

Some connection to what he was, to the thing that he had become, some measure of returning to existence no matter how vile it was.

"_He looks better in red."_

There.

In the pouring rain, as his mother's heart bled, as his injured canine companion howled his loss, as the forest was rattled by thunder and flashes of lightening, Jayne's arm twitched. A sharp pain shot through his leg as someone decided to fight for him in the physical world, and suddenly he crashed back into the red haze and bloodlust that had coloured his life for so long now.

He opened his eyes.

* * *

Simon watched as River's head snapped forward suddenly, her eyes opening and her teeth gritting. The defeat in her face disappeared, her muscles tensed and a painfully determined scream echoed through the bedroom as she suddenly found the strength to keep going. Sweat matted her hair to her face, remnants of the blood they had used to disguise her still tacky against her skin, tears dripping as she pushed, breathed, fought.

* * *

Mal paced anxiously, his eyes flicking over to where Wash and Zoe were sitting silently beside Book's sleeping form. The preacher was going to recover, but he had lost the eye. The socket was destroyed, the orb was gone, leaving little hope for even a mechanical device to replace what was lost. But he was breathing, the heavy painkillers keeping him asleep, and that was enough for the crew. They still had him.

Ginger was alternating between assisting Simon and making sure the others kept drinking the whisky laced tea she was pouring; it wasn't exactly calming them down but at least it kept their nerves from breaking. Matthew was currently snoring in Zoe's arms, and Mal refused to acknowledge the lettering on his little body. Chan was dead, the facility was destroyed, and thoughts of vengeance would do no good while River was fighting to give birth.

But somehow his godson was going to get through this.

Somehow River was going to get through this. So was Book. They would survive, in whatever way shape or form that occurred. But that didn't mean his crew would ever be whole again.

Jayne was dead.

He saw the explosion, he knew what it meant. Even if he wasn't burned to cinders the big man's lungs wouldn't have survived that kind of heat, and neither would Mattie. Sweet, over-protective Mattie, sticking with his friend until the very end. Mal clenched his fists. Jayne was dead.

There was no way those words could sound real to him.

Jayne was loud, brash, irritating and alive. Everything about him, from the way he wolfed down food to the rigorous enjoyment of cathouses to the whooping joy of violence screamed out vitality, appreciation for the simple pleasures life had to offer. Even as he thought it Mal knew that the man he had once called gunhand, mercenary, possibly even friend was no more. He had been dying for months now, leaving little pieces of his soul behind, scattering bodies and shucking off the remnants of humanity that had once contained him somewhat.

Jayne was dead.

He couldn't stay here, not with that screaming making him shake, not with Simon trying not to tell them all how dangerous the labour was becoming, how weak she was getting. He needed to do something; he couldn't leave Vera back there, and he picked up the mule keys just as Wash called out to him.

"Mal! Think you're gonna want to see this."

He moved to the window, wincing when Zoe shifted Matthew in her arms protectively, as if worried any moment he would be taken once more. The three of them looked out in shock at the sight in the courtyard.

* * *

"Jayne?"

From his position on the forest floor he turned his head. His mother stared at him, tears pouring down her cheeks to mingle with the raindrops that were crashing down on both of them. Mattie moved from where he'd bitten his friend on the leg, trying to bring him back, trying to annoy him into existence. His pack mate whuffed happily, and suddenly he was covered as his mother dove at him.

She was hitting him and hugging him and desperately reprimanding him again and again. "You stupid moronic _hun dan_…if you ever…how could ya? An' with Mattie there! You was gone, don't you ever, if you do…I will end you myself!"

He let her continue, thin arms wrapping around him close and whacking him over the back of the head again and again. He didn't understand why she was touching him, hugging him, acting as if he had any right to concern or fear or relief. Mattie barked, thrilled, butting against him, licking him, nipping at his arms and wrists and sniffing him over and over.

Something had happened. He'd come back for a reason.

"_He looks better in red."_

The red. The haze of red through which he had been living was still there. The violence thrummed in his veins, the siren song of scent memory telling him why he had returned. Too dumb to die properly, he still had something he had to do. There was a bullet promised to him, and he had no right to take his life when someone else had a claim to it.

She'd had it far longer than they knew.

His psyche was fractured but more intact than it had been, leaving him with the painful combination of knowledge and violence of which he had previously been bereft. At least before there was only instinct, there was only blood and debt and fight. Now there was knowledge, raw and sharp and riddled with shame and guilt.

His mother withdrew slightly, looking at him nervously. "Baby? You in there?"

He nodded once, standing. His leg hurt, he couldn't see out of one eye, and he felt tacky blood on his cheek. The wind stung the open wound and his tongue flicked out to taste the red. He struggled to breathe, knowing what he had to do. The debt stood.

His mother shook her head. "Baby, sit down right now, ya gotta rest, ya gotta-"

"Gotta job ta do Ma."

She was standing now, frantically grabbing at his arms. "No, ya don't, ya don't understand, ya don't know everythin'-"

"Know enough."

His muscles tensed as memory began to rip through him, and his head turned. He knew where he had to go. He looked down at her for a second, knowing that somehow he had been around her for a while and yet had only really seen her just now. The last source of unconditional love, acceptance, a young woman spending her life fighting for what was hers, giving him everything time and time again.

"I love you Ma."

She shook her head, reaching out for him, but he took off like a shot. She sprinted after him, trying to keep up with much longer legs, wincing as Mattie forced himself forward to follow him family on three legs as the broken one dangled uselessly.

The forest felt like home, trees and thorns whipping out to bite and scratch. Had to keep going, almost done, almost there.

And then he could go on to the blackness once more.

* * *

From their position in front of the window they saw Jayne, bloodied but standing in the pouring rain in the centre of the courtyard. His mother burst through the bushes just after him, a badly injured Mattie following, and Mal swore. Part of him was relieved beyond belief to see his mercenary standing, but the other part, the part that felt mighty paternal to the girl struggling to give birth in the next room, knew that this could rapidly turn into a bloodbath.

He bolted down the stairs just as he heard Jayne's roar echo through the house. "MAL!"

When he got to the courtyard Vera was torn between trying to help Mattie, who was limping painfully towards his friend, and her son, who stood in the centre of the yard, eyes blazing and fists clenched.

There was that same feral energy he was used to seeing in the big man but now it seemed tempered with something far more dangerous. Jayne was in there, somewhere, and as he spoke he was coherent for once, not the jumbled mess of manipulations and angry words, but the begging of a man who was well and truly done.

"Finished it. Got them all, they're nuthin' but ashes. Now it's yer turn."

Mal swallowed as Inara and Wash entered the courtyard behind him. "Don't ya think-"

"Here. I'm here ta hear her out."

From upstairs a scream penetrated the windows just as a roll of thunder descended over them. Purgatum's winds howled, the cold as suffocating and piercing as the heat. As another anguished cry was audible Jayne's hands hit the sides of his head. His own roar meshed with the scream as whatever control he had found was shaken by the sound of River's pain.

He fell to his knees, water removing the blood from his face as he turned his eyes to Mal. Those eyes were dead, flat, haunted, horrified. Mal saw every moment, every kill, every torture, everything Jayne had done in the last few months to bring him to this point. The rain stripped him bare, every tattoo a mark of a debt collected, every scar a hint of indifference towards a body now used solely for violence.

Jayne's voice was hoarse, and he flinched as another cry was heard. "Please Mal. It's time. She ain't got no need fer me now, it's done."

Mal's hand went to the pistol at his hip of its own accord. Whatever River might need to say to Jayne wasn't going to take that misery from his eyes, the shame from his features, the guilt from his soul. Worse still were the flashes of desire still visible in those eyes even as the screaming seemed to rip through his body like a knife. Mal swallowed, finally understanding. Through all of this, through the guilt and the rage and the violence, through the pain…Jayne still wanted the girl. Still wanted hands and teeth to take again and again. He saw what he had understood but not comprehended; Jayne was finished, he would never escape this. There was no cure for him, no miracle drug. The violence and the lust were who he was, maybe all he was, and as long as he was alive River would never be safe.

He couldn't stay alive in a world where she existed.

Vera moved in front of him as Mal drew his side arm, eyes flashing. "Don't you dare! Put that thing away ya ain't gonna-"

Inara's voice was a shout over the howling wind. "Mal, you promised, you can't do this! You can't kill him in cold blood! Simon might still find a way, there might still be something left!"

Mal shook his head, finally seeing Jayne's request as what it truly was; the last decent thing he was capable of doing. They stared at one another for a moment, and Jayne recognised the intent. Every muscle screamed for him to fight, the Ares that had been bonded to his system for so long did not approve of the inevitability of the death, by Mal knew he wouldn't.

Mal spoke simply, watching as Jayne's mouth formed the same words. "There's nothin' left."

He raised the pistol as Inara cried out, the wind stealing her words as well as Wash's protestations. Vera drew her own weapon as Mattie snarled but Mal didn't see any of them. All he saw was Jayne, still on his knees, looking skyward as his eyes closed. For a second the rain stopped and everything became still and silent and Mal's finger tightened.

"Stop!"

Kaylee's voice pierced the air, out of place and insistent, and Mal turned to her. The weapon stayed poised, the sky crackled in apprehension and the rain poured as the mechanic ran forward. She was out of breath, having bolted down the stairs as fast as she could, and suddenly Mal heard another cry, another sound piercing the night.

Kaylee stared at Jayne, and spoke to him for the first time in months.

"Yer a father."


	39. Chapter 39

**TITLE: **The Program

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **I have to offer my most sincere apologies for this offensively long delay – I moved house, started a new job, _and _my exams are coming up. Then our internet wouldn't connect, yippee. Please forgive me, I hope you can still enjoy the rest of this story, I am so very sorry; I honestly wanted to have this finished by now so the flow wouldn't be broken. I'll be replying to all your reviews/private messages :) Again, I'm so sorry. This is NOT the last chapter.

* * *

"_Yer a father."_

_Kaylee's pronouncement had sent the strangest tidal wave of change crashing silently through the courtyard. There had been little to say, only things that needed doing._

Mal handed over the manacles to Vera, who didn't bother looking at him as she cuffed her son's hands behind his back. At Kaylee's announcement Jayne had frozen still, and Mal had known he couldn't end the man's life without allowing him to see his child. He ignored the pang of relief he felt; he wasn't ready to put Jayne in the ground.

Might never be.

Wash had rushed upstairs, coming away with the heavy chains that Ginger had given him, though he'd refused to ask why exactly they had them. What happened on the cathouse lower levels stayed on the cathouse lower levels.

"_Can't let ya see yer lil one, not without a restraint. You know that."_

_Jayne didn't reply to Mal's words. Underneath the darker exposure tan he'd worked up over the last few months his skin turned a sallow grey. He swallowed, the action looking as if it nearly choked him, and he managed to rock forward slightly, the barest of nods._

Vera knelt down to where Jayne was still frozen on the ground, though he didn't pull away as she moved his hands behind his back. Mattie was sitting beside him without moving, refusing to shift as Vera took a moment to rest her head against her son's shoulders and fight back tears. She hadn't argued when it was pointed out that Jayne still wasn't safe to be around, not for River, but having to chain him was breaking her heart.

And she refused to let anyone else do it.

Mal stepped forward, helping to pull him upright, and he wondered if Vera would ever forgive him for what he had almost done. At the Captain's grip of his arm Jayne flinched, unused to human contact outside of violence, and Mattie rubbed against the big man's side reassuringly. It seemed to calm him somewhat, but through the stillness Mal could see the tension lacing his muscles, and he felt the same. Every one of them knew what they were risking here, but Kaylee refused to be swayed, and Inara felt the same way.

As they walked Vera spoke to Mal out the corner of her mouth. "Pull a pistol on my boy again an' I'll put ya in the ground."

Mal gritted his teeth. "Don't think that's yer choice."

Her eyes flashed. "I brought him inta this world, an' if he's goin' ta be taken out I'll be the one ta do it."

He hated pissing off the woman who had put them up, looked after them, taken them in when they had nowhere else to go. When they were battered, bruised and broken she had welcomed them readily, never demanding anything more than their help in creating this life here. Contrary to popular belief he did not enjoy killing, but when it was necessary he would do what was required. Jayne's eyes had brooked no argument, both men knew he was a threat and would continue to be one. If after allowing him to meet his child River wanted the big man's life, or Jayne wanted himself gone, then Mal would fulfil the wish.

He owed him that much.

* * *

"I'm so proud of you _mei mei_."

She gave him a sleepy smile as he ran a hand over her hair where she lay on the bed. He'd wrapped her up as best he could, thick blankets over her sweat cooled body, and he had placed the baby in her arms at her immediate insistence. She had required pillows around her child in order to support the little one; her own arms were just too weak, but the exhaustion would pass quickly.

Difficult as the birth had been his sister was far too strong, too stubborn to let a little thing like massive blood loss and terrible pain stop her from seeing her child. She was already gaining some colour back, though a decent night's sleep and some food would be far more helpful. Kaylee and Inara had entered moments before, warning that the others were bringing Jayne, and Simon's hand ghosted over the gun on the bedside table.

He wouldn't hesitate to use it if she asked him to.

In fact he almost wished she would. Not because he wanted to kill Jayne, not because he wanted the tiny baby exposed to bloodshed at less than an hour old, but because the potential for a horrible, deadly, vile ending to this tale was currently being marched up the stairs in manacles, and they had all suffered enough.

Jayne included.

River didn't look up from her child's face, one slim finger running gently over a tiny cheek, but he could tell her words were meant for him. "Shhh, quiet thoughts. Can't have the party without the guest of honour."

He looked at her in confusion and could almost hear the eye roll in her tone. "Missing pieces _ge ge_."

He tried to find some comfort in words he didn't quite understand. He knew the risks right now. Without the blood that had been coating her, not to mention the blood she had lost while giving birth, River had no masking agent to disguise the hormones that Jayne's system craved like a drug. Even with the rest of the crew on high alert there was danger; the Ares compound made him too fast, too indifferent to pain or damage, too driven by the calling in his blood over his own mind.

Or what was left of it.

Sounds of a struggle were heard outside, and Wash yelped as a boot thunked against something, as if a large body was attempting to avoid entering the room. He tensed as he heard Mal's strained voice.

"Quit actin' like a chicken, we're the ones who gotta worry."

Simon fought the urge to burst into hysterical laughter.

The door burst open, Mal tumbling to the floor with Jayne, both men soaking wet. The manacles around Jayne's back held firm as he struggled, obviously trying to get out of the room, and he snarled as Mal planted a boot in his back. Suddenly the mercenary went rigid, inhaling deeply, and Mattie growled low as Jayne's eyes locked on the girl lying in the bed.

Brown eyes locked with blue, and Simon's hand tightened around River's as the mercenary's face became clouded with bloodlust. Jayne lunged forward, the movement bringing him to the edge of the bed, and Mal pushed him down again as Mattie barked sharply, a stern reprimand. Vera had shouted and now Mattie and Mal were struggling to contain the hulking mass of mercenary they had brought into a room with a tiny infant child.

Simon wondered briefly when one of Mal's plans would go right before remembering what Mal's original plan had been.

Possibly that would have been the right plan to go with.

Throughout the spectacle River hadn't moved, though Simon did question whether he was holding her hand or she was making sure he didn't go for the pistol on the table. Now she turned her head to her brother, squeezing his hand weakly. If she felt any concern at the dogpile of males on the other side of the room, one of whom was snarling and growling in his attempts to get to her, she didn't show it.

Suddenly the sounds of struggled stopped as Mattie loomed over Jayne, breathing heavily onto his face, and the big man gritted his teeth as the stench of blood and death on Mattie's breath briefly cut the effects of the Ares in his system. He didn't look away from his injured but still dangerous pack mate, gritting his teeth and addressing River for the first time in months.

"End it."

She shook her head. "Can't."

Mattie's leg gave out and he slipped, Jayne snarling as Mal hauled him back from another lunge, shouting now. "Ain't gonna last girly, end it!"

Simon swallowed as River shifted carefully, slightly closer to the edge of the bed. He moved to assist her, watching as Jayne snarled furiously.

"Gorramit girl, take the fuckin' debt now!"

Her head snapped up and she narrowed her eyes at him. The voice that slipped from her lips was not her own, but rather a perfect imitation of Mal.

"When yer done, when ya find what yer lookin' fer, ya head ta Purgatum. Ya hear what she has ta say."

Jayne froze at that. He remembered those words as well as Simon and Mal did, remembered the night at the Longshore Inn, remembered what had been promised. And what he had promised in return. He had promised to hear what she had to say.

He had to keep his promise.

He heard Zoe click the safety off her Mare's Leg and keep it in Jayne's direction, Matthew balanced in her arms. He heard Inara knock a bolt in a crossbow and keep it pointed tautly at the mercenary. He saw Mal and Mattie struggle to keep the big man pinned, Vera holding a pistol at her side, her eyes tearing up but her grip on the weapon firm. A movement from Jayne, a second where he slipped his handlers and he'd be brought to nothingness.

River glanced at the others in the room. "Privacy."

Protestations echoed through the room on different voices, each person refusing, citing the danger, the risk, her exhaustion, the baby. As they were speaking one thin hand whipped out to snatch the pistol from the table, clicking the safety off and pointing it directly between Jayne's eyes. Silence descended at the gesture.

Simon leaned down. "_Mei mei,_ you're still too weak, you can't-"

She shook her head. "Privacy. Mattie can stay." She met her brother's eyes. "Simon, please, trust her."

His eyes flicked over to where Jayne was manacled on the floor. His hands were chained behind his back, Mattie was close enough he could cause serious damage despite his own injuries, and River's hand was not shaking as she held the weapon at the father of her child.

He nodded, once, kissing her temple before turning to leave. He looked back at the others. "Let's give them some privacy."

He looked at River once more. "The second I hear anything we're back in here, _dong ma_?"

She nodded patiently.

And then they were alone.

He rolled one shoulder as he rocked back onto his heels, standing very slowly. The pistol moved with him, though she gestured for him to move closer to the bed. The girl, exhausted and broken and smelling like Christmas fucking morning, lying on a bed.

Mattie growled low just behind him but he barely heard it.

_Lying there so easy to take no fight left worth the wounds. Could slip grasping hands easily enough, could tear apart the room before a bullet came close. Could take what he wanted. END IT GIRL. Take the debt before the room runs red, don't lie there, demand penance NOW. Destroy, request destruction, anything to avoid the ramifications of that scent, rich and thick and dark and…_

His shoulder twitched as she slipped down part of the blanket wrapped around the bundle. A new scent hit his nostrils and suddenly everything changed.

_Light._

_Fresh and clean and pure._

He could barely breathe, gasping for air.

_Icy spring water._

_The warmth of sunshine on night cool skin._

_Fields of wildflowers._

He began to shake, knees buckling and sending him to the floor.

_Cutting away the darkly sensuous smell that had haunted his dreams for so long. Piercing through the veil of bloodlust and destruction infecting his system. The previous scent of ripe fruit, bloodied lips and violent passion pale in comparison to this._

_It shot through his system, clearing cobwebs, dousing fires and igniting new ones._

His daughter blinked at him.

The face was tiny, perfect. Large eyes the colour of polished _lapis lazuli_ blinked up at him, dark lashes framing them. River's face was miniaturized on the baby, a perfect copy, but the eyes…those belonged to her father.

He felt the muscles in his arms begin, very slowly, to release some of the tension that had held them in a vice for so long. Jayne reached one hand out, very carefully placing the lightest touch on the outside of the blanket that encased his little girl. His hand was shaking, leading Mattie to lean carefully against his side for comfort. He sat back, leaning against Mattie as if he could barely keep himself upright.

His voice was rough and tight as he spoke, unable to look away from his daughter. "S'her name?"

River's voice was hoarse with exhaustion but strong enough to echo through the room. "Natalia."

He nodded, swallowing thickly. "Pretty."

"Merry Christmas."

His eyebrows narrowed in confusion and he could hear a warm smile in River's voice. "Means born on Christmas…today."

Christmas Day. It was Christmas Day. The holiday was rarely celebrated, an ancient tradition from earth-that-was, but it usually meant good food and family, along with presents. Occasionally Kaylee would string the ship with fairy lights, but since the arrival of the Tam's, since Miranda, since Persephone, holidays had been somewhat forgotten.

Until now.

How long had he been gone? How long had he existed in a miasma of violence and bloodshed and dark memories and darker actions?

He chuckled, and for once he didn't hear his own agony and darkness ringing through the sound. He finally let his eyes meet River's, and as his daughter's own scent cut away at the control her mother's pheromones had on his body, he looked at her properly for the first time in months.

She was thin, though the heavy blankets covered whatever remnants of her stomach still existed. Her hair was damp with sweat, dark circles under her eyes, but a smile tugged her lips as she allowed her daughter to wrap a tiny hand around one slim finger. She looked happy. She looked perfect.

That humming in his blood was still there, but his daughter's presence brought out something else, something protective, a warmth he hadn't felt internally since he was a young boy. The craving was replaced with contentment, a feeling that he had done something right in the 'verse, despite the knowledge that nothing about his daughter's conception had been right. But those piercing blue eyes held him entranced, the tufts of dark brown hair on her head offset by her milky skin. She was the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life, and she was heating something he hadn't even realized had become frozen. When River met his eyes he had to ask but he couldn't form the words.

She didn't need him to. "Safety mechanism. Couldn't have their Breeders destroying their young, what would be the point of the experiment without offspring?"

She looked down at Natalia, her eyes clouding over with sadness for a moment. "Doesn't mean…still…offspring requires more focus, immediate presence will deflect other…urges."

The bolt of fury at the label, at the reminder of what The Program and The Academy had done to them, the knowledge that he was still a slave to the Ares virus was enough to make his muscles tense once more. Mattie jumped and he struggled to control himself, not wanting to frighten his daughter.

River watched him. "Does he…would you like to hold her?"

His eyes went wide. He was fairly sure he had never wanted anything more in his entire life. Which was how he knew exactly what the answer to that question should be.

"No."

She cocked her head to one side, not admonishing, just waiting.

He couldn't meet her eyes. "What I did…girl ya know I can't stay 'round ya. Glad ya let me see her, an' glad I can think straight fer now, but we both know that ain't gonna last. S'like a patch; soon as she ain't around, what then? Can't risk it, can't do that again."

He finally met her eyes, tears slipping down her face. "Ain't no place fer me in that girl's life…hell, ain't no place fer me in this 'verse. I filled the debt, destroyed them all, heard what ya had ta say…an' now it's time fer Mal ta hold up his end o' the bargain."

She reached out one hand, and he resisted the urge to flinch away from her touch. He had no right to refuse contact from her. The icy skin of his fingers slipped over his temple, through close cropped hair, down his jaw and onto the inky black patterns of his neck. Her touch felt like burning along his skin, he couldn't help but lean into it, fighting the urge to inhale the scent of her palm.

"Victim."

The word was spoken so softly he wasn't sure he'd actually heard it, but she held his eyes carefully. "Victim, like her, both violated. No debt, no blood to be paid."

He couldn't breathe. She was absolving him. He didn't deserve it, didn't understand it. No matter what she said, he was the one who allowed the violence in his system to take over, to hurt her so badly. He was the one who had tortured, maimed and killed his way across the 'verse to ensure that it couldn't happen again. Even now he was the one who knew that no matter what he felt for his daughter he would always be a danger to her mother.

River pressed one palm flat against his cheek. "Value does not lie in what was…"

She touched their daughter's forehead. "Value lies in what is to be."

She met his eyes and suddenly he knew. Their scars, the ones that could be seen and the ones buried deep, were not self-inflicted, but evidence of their use and abuse by others. She didn't blame him. She wasn't suggesting fairy tales, promising love or a relationship. She wasn't denying a hard road, a dangerous one, or even an impossible one. She was demanding they take the chance to traverse it regardless.

Mattie nudged his shoulder before moving around to the end of the bed and carefully stretching out beside River. He sniffed at the little bundle in her arms before laying his head on the pillow beside her, exhausted from his busy day and injuries, happy to keep her warm. River dropped something behind Jayne, and he felt the key in his hands. He didn't bother to argue, unlocking the manacles and bringing his hands in front of him.

She patted the bed beside her and he sat carefully, one hand moving behind her back of its own volition, the other coming to rest on his daughter's stomach. A tiny hand wrapped around a thick, calloused finger, and he moved closer. River's body was cool against his side, her head moving to lean against the crook of his shoulder.

Suddenly there were no flashbacks, no voices, no memories. Suddenly there was no noise, no violent pounding in his ears, no lust clouding his vision, no debt and burden laying heavily on his soul.

Those things would return, they both knew it. They both understood that this wasn't their happily ever after, that too much had happened for them to ride blissfully into the sunset. They both knew that a single horrific encounter, though it had produced something wonderful and perfect, was not a declaration of love.

But for now, as the world dropped away, it didn't matter.

Suddenly there was silence. There was a girl, and there was a man, and there was the tiny, perfect thing they had created.

And then there was everything.


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: **The end of this journey (or is it?). There are apologies to make for my taking such a long time to finish this, and I'll be letting y'all know the full explanation through PMs/review replies etc.

Thanks for staying with this story, for your amazing reviews and support, and for generally being the reason why I like writing.

Special thanks to jewelshinely for her request, which started the ball rolling.

And for my Irishman...he knows what he did.

Love.

* * *

_The woods are lovely and dark and deep._

Leaves shift beneath her bare feet as she moves between the trees. It's twilight, the in between; blistering heat is briefly replaced with gentle warmth and a cool breeze before the surrounding deserts steal the sun's gifts and leave freezing cold behind. Sleep shorts and the thin tank do little to protect her from snatching branches, extremities exposed to the sharp rocks and sharper inhabitants of the forest floor.

She doesn't mind though.

She loves this time. Loves another day of scorching sun survived, loves these moments of placid calm before the chill sweeps over the planet and starts another struggle.

Her feet seem to know where they're going and so she lets them take her, mind free to wander. Back at their current home her daughter sleeps alongside a furry friend and won't be waking for another hour or so. Her crewmates are still resting after their barely survived trials, the House of Night thick with a strange mix of relief and slowly encroaching concern. They can't pinpoint it, not yet, not with their adrenaline still simmering out and leaving exhaustion in its wake.

It is in the aftermath of their fatigue that they'll learn the truth.

They won the battle, but there is a subtler war still remaining.

Slowly they are beginning to understand that theirs is not a victory, they are not walking into any sunset.

The scars are too thick, the tissue too ingrained now. There is no return to their previous life, not with lost eyes, violent viruses, and soul wounds deeper than space littering their path. They cannot step over these obstacles and slip back to what was, not with a baby boy marked for violence, not with the darkness they have been forced to slip inside. They seek solace in their offered homestead, choosing to disappear for the moment behind the flashing blue eyes of the House Mistress.

Whole and in pieces, together but shattered, they can only go forward.

_The woods are lovely and dark and deep._

_But she has promises to keep._

She brushes curling dark hair from her shoulders, reminding herself that the forest is just a forest. Those are not the figures of a mechanic and doctor, their mouths zipped closed and their eyes full of tears. They are just tangled trees with gnarled branches.

The purple dusk is seeping through the canopy and stealing the last of the sunset, the light shifting strange colours over leaves; it is not a Hawaiian shirt with a single bloody bullet hole.

She steps carefully over rocks, wincing when her normally agile feet hit the edge of a branch. The crack echoes like breaking bones, and when she glances down she sees the healthy branch reduced to segments of useless vertebrae.

The scent of smoke in the air is just the remnant of a small fire that had lapped the forest; it is not gun smoke and incense, their strange blend at first pleasing but then disparate and bitter.

Pale rocks have been polished by ancient and long dead streams, now gleaming against the dull forest background of fallen branches; there is no head of grey hair, no familiar sword laden with honour lying on the ground.

Pinpricks of light are simply lights from the far off town making their way through the trees; they are not fierce blue eyes filled with fire.

A howl is just a howl, not a soul crying out in rage and pain.

She shakes her head. The forest returns to what it was.

Her feet are silent but she knows she could be tracked.

She knows this because she is being tracked.

_She has promises to keep._

Her feet have reached their destination. The lake, for all the encroaching darkness of the night that is cooling the air further, is bright and clear. The pebbles and fallen branches at the bottom are clearly visible through the azure water.

She blinks.

Dusk is slowly stealing twilight, soon the moon should be visible on the lake's surface, glinting through the leaves above.

So why can she only see a sun?

The air is filled with rich earth and healthy plant life, ferns and flowers encircling the pool of water.

The blue, blue water with its silent sun.

A trick of the light.

She wants to think it is just a trick of the light, but never has there been a tale of more woe, and she knows she can't hide in denial like the others. For a second she sees black eyes at the edge of the forest, looking on with guilt and determination, a relic from a battle that now seemed ancient. They disappear as she turns her head back down to the water.

She has a feeling it has always been there, that sun, waiting just below the surface.

Hiding in plain sight.

She should be afraid now. She knows this, but the air whispers against her skin like the phantom hands she thinks of late at night, gentle and calming though such action has no base in her memory. Cool breeze slips up her spine, over her shoulders, twining around her neck and through her hair. There is no violence, no taint of force, not even the rusty scent of guilt.

All the more reason to enjoy it, my dear.

Her feet are not yet finished, slipping into the cool water, and as she moves into the centre she feels a kind of peace begin to envelope her body. She wants to move towards the sun reflected just ahead, but her feet have other plans, and it dances just out of reach.

Just out of reach.

A barely-there breeze slips over the surface, little ripples tickling at her ribcage, and she slips her pale hands under the surface of the blue water, the rest of her body following suit.

Underwater the quiet of the forest is magnified, a deafening silence that could be screaming something if only she knew what language it was speaking. She opens her eyes, but there are no fish, no signs of life, simply the calming waters that surround her body and seep serenity into her bones.

And she knows she is not alone.

She rises to the surface slowly, pushing her hair from her face until she is standing once more. The water lapping around her ribcage is slowly joined by a pair of hands. Her eyes close for a second as she enjoys her imagination, wishing those hands were real, wishing the callouses and gunfire burns of his fingertips were actually caressing her ribs and waist.

She glances down, allowing her hands to rest on much larger, darker fingers.

Real.

A smile slips over her face when the air doesn't become heavy with tension, anxiety and guilt. She doesn't feel a body buzzing with sex and bloodlust, only the warmth of his skin and the coolness of the water.

She skims her nails gently over the tanned skin of his knuckles, moving them back towards the black ink encircling his wrists. The light reflecting from the water plays tricks with her mind, the ink moving like serpents to become chains around his wrists before resting once more in their usual homes.

His breath is warm against her hair, stubble scraping the side of her neck as he bends to breathe deeply. Clear, clean water has briefly stripped her body of oils and scent, leaving behind no trace of the normally dangerous aroma. Her head falls back against his chest as his hands tighten slightly, blunt teeth slipping over the skin of her neck as his thumbs trace the underside of her breasts. Lips find her carotid artery, pausing to feel its rhythm before continuing up to the edge of her jaw.

The water swirls as she moves a thin arm behind her, wrapping fingers around the back of his neck and feeling the short hair at the base. His hands slip over her ribcage to skim her stomach, flat once more since their daughter's birth, before coming to rest against her hipbones.

Gripping tightly.

A hiss escapes her throat as he turns her, twisting her body until they are facing one another, large arm anchored around her back while the other hand slips up to her face. She cups either cheek, thumbs running over rough stubble as she looks at eyes that are for once clear from the heat and violence brought about by her scent.

Clear blue eyes, filled with something cleaner than lust.

She stretches upwards, en pointe in the water, and feels his sharp intake of breath just as their lips connect.

There's a first time for everything.

The encounter that created their daughter and shattered their world to pieces slips away, leaving behind a tentative movement that slowly deepens into something more sensuous. Their sharp inhalations punctuate the silence of the forest, the hands gripping her body tighter, closer as tongues and lips and teeth move past their shy beginning to start searching for more.

He tastes like cigar smoke and promise, and as one arm slips under her rear to pull her tighter to his chest she wraps her legs around his waist, desperate to get closer.

To move against him and have him move against her of their own accord, own desire, own decision. The clean, heady richness of non-predetermined exploration is making her head spin, his hands tighten against her thighs and travel up to her breasts.

Her gasp pierces the silence of the forest and suddenly she feels cold.

The calm and serenity of the water suddenly drains from her body.

The forest is not silent.

The forest is never silent.

Life, vibrant and dark and poisonous and beautiful life is constantly shifting through the breezes. Bird calls, insect wings, disturbed undergrowth and far off howling of wild dog packs create a cacophony that is, even at its quietest, a constant buzz of music.

She grips him tighter, moaning against his mouth, her nails clutching at his shoulders, fingers running through his hair. She shifts, the movement making them both hiss, wanting to block out the concern the silent forest is causing her, to disappear into that taste of warmth and cigar smoke and promise and…

Blood.

There shouldn't be blood.

No cigar smoke here, but the scent of rotting flesh.

Her eyes fly open just as the Reaver wraps its arms around her tighter. The lips are torn and teeth are missing, the skin of its face sliced and sutured into a mask of horror through which a pair of piercing blue eyes are now glittering with contempt.

A sneer splits its lips and she tries to scream.

* * *

She wakes up gasping.

Sweat cools against her skin, her breathing ragged and her hands shaking as she looks at them.

Wrong colour…

Mattie stands beside the bed, whimpering with concern, torn between her beside and Natalia's cot less than a foot away. River strokes his ears, murmuring reassurances that she knows he doesn't believe.

She rises from the bed, moving past Mattie to pick up Natalia, now awake and watching her mother with calm eyes. She runs her hands over the baby's back, holding her close and breathing deeply, the clean scent of her skin washing away the odour of rotting flesh that has followed her out of the dream. River sits in the centre of her bed, the mattress dipping when Mattie jumps up behind her, oversized body becoming a backrest and she looks down at her daughter.

Ghost hands whisper over her ribcage, her lips tingle with the warmth of promise, and she fights hard to push the feelings away.

There is no place for love in the wasteland.

_The woods were lovely and dark and deep,_

_But she has promises to keep._

_And miles to go before she can sleep._

She looks down at the hands she has wrapped around her daughter protectively. They are pale as always, as they had been in the dream, except when she had let them slip into the water.

Her voice breaks through the silence of their room, wavering slightly as she whispers her fears into the night.

"Two by two, hands of blue."

**THE END**

* * *

**A/N:** So…yeah. That's happening. If you're interested, keep an eye out.

Until next time Browncoats,

The Frisky Firelily


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